


Young Gods

by jeondoe



Series: The Kids Aren't Alright [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Anal Sex, Bad Boy Kim Taehyung | V, Bartender Kim Taehyung | V, Bottom Jeon Jungkook, Doctor Kim Seokjin | Jin, Dom Kim Taehyung | V, Enemies to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Hurt Kim Taehyung | V, Jeon Jungkook & Kim Seokjin | Jin are Siblings, Jeon Jungkook as Spider-Man, Jeon Jungkook is a Ray of Sunshine, Jungkookie's a Smart Kookie, Kim Namjoon | RM as Iron Man, Kim Taehyung | V & Hwang Hyunjin are Siblings, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin are Best Friends, Kim Taehyung | V as Deadpool, Kim Taehyung | V is Bad at Feelings, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mentioned Other K-pop Artist(s), Minor Character Death, Sort Of, Spideypool - Freeform, Sub Jeon Jungkook, THAT'S LITERALLY THE CUTEST TAG EVER OMG, Top Kim Taehyung | V, University Student Jeon Jungkook, let's make that a thing stayarmy whose with me, taehyung's kind of a dick, why is that not a thing yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27210175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeondoe/pseuds/jeondoe
Summary: As Gangnam City's favorite vigilante, Jeongguk's duties as Spider-Man include catching muggers and petty thieves- maybe even helping out the Avengers, if he gets lucky.Falling in love isn't really part of the plan.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook & Kim Seokjin | Jin, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin, Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Series: The Kids Aren't Alright [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080164
Comments: 22
Kudos: 246





	1. 0 0 1

**Author's Note:**

> me, a snob: if you aren’t well versed in the Harry Potter verse, don’t write a Hogwarts AU  
> also me, a hypocrite: *writes a Marvel AU*

When your brother calls you in the middle of the day ‘for no good reason’, it’s never a good sign.

For other siblings, maybe. For people who didn’t have brothers who were top surgeons at Seoul’s biggest hospital, for people who didn’t have brothers who worked six days a week and were on call the seventh, for people who didn’t have brothers who were Jeon Seokjin.

So the moment Seokjin drawled out a prolonged, “He-e-ey, lil bruv, what’s crack-a-lackin’?”, Jeongguk knew it could only mean trouble.

Goddammit, he never should’ve let that boy from his Chemistry class copy his homework. Granted, the boy in question was Kim Mingyu and Jeongguk was likely to give up his left kidney if Kim Mingyu were to ask, but still. He’d felt guilty about it all the same.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

There was an offended gasp from the other end of the line. “Can’t a man call his beloved baby brother? What is this disrespect? I will not stand for this, oh no, I will march right over there and-”

Seokjin’s waffling meant it couldn’t’ve been anything too severe, but ‘mildly worrisome’ with respect to Seokjin could still mean anything from ‘I threw away the last of your banana milk’ to ‘I hacked into the government’s database and I need your help to escape the feds’.

“Hyung, what is it?” A vague silhouette of a girl who looked like Chaeyoung materialized in the distance. She had barely entered Jeongguk’s field of vision when a motley group of people stopped to talk to her, looking at her like she was Aphrodite. Yep, it was definitely Chae.

“What does Kim Namjoon look like?” Seokjin blurted.

Jeongguk tore his eyes away from the gradually gathering crowd around Chaeyoung. _What does Kim Namjoon look like?_ was not a question most people would ask. The man gazed imposingly ( _sexily_ , Jeongguk’s mind added) from billboards all over the country and the rest of the world (Chaeyoung, upon one of her family trips to Melbourne, had sent him a photo of a billboard of Namjoon wearing a suit that she’d captioned _daddy warbucks lookin gooooooooood_. Jeongguk hadn’t gotten much sleep that night).

Also, there was the fact that he was Iron Man and revealed that fact during a live transmission of a press conference half the world was watching. So.

Jeongguk plastered on a cheery voice. “There’s this handy thing called the internet, hyung! Perhaps you haven’t heard of it since it came much after your time, but-”

“Don’t be a smartass, Jeongguk,” Seokjin sniped, but Jeongguk heard the faint sound of him smashing keys on a laptop. Then, softly and with feeling, “Oh shit.”

The long silence that followed wiped the smile from Jeongguk’s face. “Hyung? Everything alright?”

Seokjin audibly gulped. “Jeongguk, I just knocked out Kim Namjoon in our living room.”

Jeongguk sighed. “Yeah, I figured it was something like that. I’ll be home in ten.”

Chaeyoung had somehow managed to detach herself from her friends (read: the entire campus, including the academic staff, the cafeteria ladies and the toothless old janitor who cleaned the Arts department) and was making her way over to Jeongguk. “Hey, Gukkie; I see you’re really feeling the sunshine.”

Jeongguk looked down at his black Linkin Park t-shirt, black hoodie and mangled- but staunchly black- skinny jeans impassively, then back at his best friend. “Thanks. By the way, my brother accosted and possibly murdered the richest man in Asia.”

She pursed her lips, nodding. “Want me to send you the notes for Biology?”

“I adore you.”

The apartment the Jeon siblings shared was your average bachelor pad; minimalist, halfway functional and almost tidy. On most days, you could find the younger of the two sprawled in front of the TV, completing both assignments and anime series simultaneously. The older would typically be in the kitchen, humming the latest jingle for a laundry detergent while cooking or making dad jokes or asking his brother, ever so lovingly, “ _Turn the damn volume down because I’m about to make an important work call and I’m not about to let my colleagues wonder why the fuck the_ Yuri on Ice _soundtrack is blaring in the background!_ ”

Today, there was a new addition in the form of a billionaire tied to a kitchen chair.

“Oh my God, you killed him.” Jeongguk kneeled at Namjoon’s feet- something he’d imagined doing many times before but under entirely different circumstances- peering up at the lolling head. An ugly purple bruise had already blossomed on his forehead, where Seokjin had bonked him with a briefcase just moments prior. “We’re officially fugitives.”

“I didn’t _kill_ him.” Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “I think.”

Jeongguk stared at Namjoon’s chest (purely for research purposes and definitely not because the Armani button-up strained deliciously across the tight pecs, the glorious namtiddies- alright, snap out of it, Jeongguk). He was breathing alright.

“What are you doing home at this time, anyway?” Jeongguk forced himself to move away and not sniff Namjoon’s shirtsleeves like he wanted to (again, for research).

“I work Wednesday nights now instead; switched shifts with Jinyoung.” Seokjin, supposedly at peace with having knocked out a prominent public figure, was casually sipping a glass of wine. “That’s how I found Mr. Moneybags here. He was sitting in _my_ kitchen, eating _my_ hummus, and had the audacity to imply that it needed ‘more sugar’. I’ll give him sugar, alright.”

“So that’s why you knocked him out?” Namjoon looked good from Jeongguk’s viewpoint. What the hell, he looked good from any viewpoint. “’Cause he insulted your cooking?”

“No, I knocked him out because I found a six-foot-tall man I’d never seen before in my apartment.” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “Keep _up_ , dumb bunny. Anyway, it was only after I’d walloped him ’round the head with the first thing I got my hands on that I stopped and said to myself, _hey, doesn’t this look like that one guy Jeongguk had posters all over his bedroom all throughout high school-_ ”

“Hyung.”

“- Which was when I realized that, _oh shit, this is that one guy Jeongguk had posters all over his bedroom all throughout high school_ -”

“ _Hyung_.”

“- And so I called you, so I wouldn’t have to face the consequences of my actions alone.” Seokjin beamed at his brother.

“I abhor you.”

Seokjin ruffled his hair. “No, you don’t- _holy shit he’s waking up._ ” They watched with bated breath as Namjoon let out a little groan. “Alright, so how do you wanna play this? Good cop, bad cop? I’ll be the bad cop- I’ve always wanted to yell at someone who wasn’t you.”

“Really feeling the love, hyung.”

“Oh, _fuck-_ where am I?”

Jeongguk exchanged a look with Seokjin as they slowly crept up behind Namjoon, Seokjin placing his index finger to his puckered lips. They had barely moved a step when Namjoon scoffed.

“I’m not going to bite you.” He struggled a bit in his restraints and gave up. “I don’t think I can even move.” Jeongguk felt a pang of admiration for his brother, then remembered the WikiHow page on Shibari Seokjin had forgotten to exit once, and was promptly disgusted.

“How did you know we were behind you?” Seokjin abandoned all subtlety and stomped over to Namjoon, pointing a finger in his face. “Is this some sort of weird superhero thing? Do you have superhearing?”

For a moment, Namjoon was speechless. Jeongguk rolled his eyes- Seokjin tended to have that effect on people when they first met him (see: Chaeyoung’s debilitating crush on him that lasted all the way through second grade). With his K-drama actor face and shoulders that could bridge the Grand Canyon, Seokjin could’ve been a member of an internationally acclaimed boyband if he’d wanted to.

Namjoon finally found his voice (and dignity). “You have a mirror behind your door.”

(The addition had been upon Seokjin’s insistence; “Gukkie, I need to have a face that can stop hearts.” “Hyung, you’re a doctor.” “Semantics.”)

“Oh, yes, right.” Seokjin’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, so what were you doing in our apartment?”

Namjoon’s eyes lit up. “Ah! You must be Jeongguk’s brother, Seokjin! I’d been calling you ‘hot guy with bad hummus’ inside my head all this time! Where’s Jeongguk?”

“How dare you insult my cooking but compliment my face-”

Jeongguk pushed Seokjin out of the way. “Hyung, go to your room.” Seokjin huffed at him and stalked off to the kitchen. He turned back to Namjoon. “Mr. Kim, sir, hello, hi, how are you?”

“Jeon Jeongguk, pleasure to finally meet you.” Deep dimples engraved in Namjoon’s cheeks when he smiled. “I’d shake your hand, but.” He tugged his restraints again.

“Oh, fuck, sorry.” Jeongguk dashed to his room to fetch his switchblade, then doubled back to the living room to hack away at the ropes intricately looped around his wrists and the chair. “Sorry, my brother’s a bit of a- well.”

“I’ve been tied up by worse-looking people; I’ll take this as a compliment.” Namjoon winked at him, and Jeongguk’s face flushed. “So. I know you’re Spider-Man.” In the kitchen, Seokjin dropped something metallic with a resounding _clang._ Jeongguk opened his mouth to protest and stopped at the look Namjoon gave him. “Nobody else knows, you’re fine; except for Hyejin-”

“ _The_ Black Widow knows I’m Spider-Man?”

“- And those who’ll come to learn can be trusted to keep it a secret, you have my word on that.” Namjoon rubbed his reddened wrists. “I came to make you an offer.”

“I can join the Avengers?” Jeongguk said excitedly.

Seokjin gasped from the kitchen. “I think the fuck not-”

“I think the fuck _yes_ -”

“Your brother’s right.” Jeongguk deflated. “Here’s the thing, kid-”

Jeongguk scowled. “I’m not a damn kid.”

“Yes, you are, you’re my ickle Googiekins, my baby bunny bub-”

“Shut up, hyung.”

Namjoon ignored them both. “You’re the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, alright? Catching shoplifters, getting cats down from trees, protecting little old ladies from getting mugged- that’s your gig. And if you ask me, that’s a pretty sweet gig. Less risk of being incinerated by aliens.” He rolled his shoulders back. Jeongguk tried not to stare… Too much. “But eventually, maybe.”

Jeongguk gaped at him. “For real?”

“When we know you can shoulder the responsibility.” Namjoon’s somber tone made any elation Jeongguk felt ebb away. “Wednesday afternoon, you’re gonna come to Avengers HQ. We’ve got some things we have to go through.” Namjoon suddenly stood up. “That’s it, then. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

Jeongguk gaped at Namjoon for a few awkward seconds. “Oh, right, yeah! Thank you, Mr. Kim, sir!”

Namjoon nodded at him, cast a longing look towards the kitchen where Seokjin was aggressively chopping up a cucumber (Jeongguk winced at the metaphorical implication) and shook Jeongguk’s hand before swooping out the door.

Guess who was never washing their left hand again.

. . .

A very cheerful man named Jung Hoseok (“Call me Hobi Hyung, kid.” “I’m not a kid, and- _Happy_ Hyung?” “Hobi. Rhymes with ‘booby’.” “… No, it doesn’t.”) had arrived in a sleek black Rolls-Royce emblazoned with the Kim Industries logo on Wednesday afternoon to escort him to Avengers HQ, claiming to be the Head of Security and Namjoon’s ‘most bosom dudebro’. Jeongguk had kept his head bowed as he got into the car to maintain a semblance of discretion (a fruitless attempt, really, considering Hobi had screamed, “ _JEON JEONGGUK_! Hey, why are you trying to hide?” the moment he’d been spotted).

Avengers HQ was located in the heart of Gangnam, a monstrous sheer façade of glass and steel facing the main road at an angle. Hobi killed the engine right outside the massive sliding doors.

“Here’s where I leave you, kid. Byulyi will be waiting for you to escort you to Joon’s office. She’s kinda short but don’t tell her I told you that.”

“I’m not a kid-” Jeongguk began, but Hobi had already sped off. Sighing, he stepped inside.

Seoul was hardly a tropical paradise. Inside the building was arctic. Jeongguk pulled his ratty Letterman tighter around himself, glancing around the foyer. There was a massive mural of the Avengers dominating one wall; Namjoon in the middle, as always, flanked by the rest of the Earth’s sworn defenders.

Jeongguk was about to take a selfie with it when a lady in a powder blue pantsuit materialized.

“That pose makes it look like Iron Man’s fondling your butt,” was the first thing she said, and the second was, “I’m Moon Byulyi, Namjoon’s secretary due to a colossal amount of bad karma.”

“Oh, uh, hi.” Jeongguk thrust his hand towards her. She ignored it, and he let it drop, awkwardly swinging by his side. “I’m Jeon Jeongguk.”

“I know. We scanned you as you entered.” _That explained the lack of security checks._ “Come on, kid. We haven’t got all day.”

Jeongguk recognized the strains of an American rap song as he entered the elevator. He peered curiously at the walls, wondering where the speakers were hidden, and if there were any scanners in the elevator as well.

Namjoon’s office was at the topmost floor; surrounded on glass by three sides, it had a panoramic view of Seoul. The fourth wall had the door through which they just entered, and a screen with a video of Jeongguk and Byulyi in the elevator taken at a particularly unflattering angle.

“Ohmigod, he’s _baby_!”

Jeongguk barely had time to appreciate how weird his forehead looked in proportion to his nose before said nose was filled with the cloying smell of jasmine. He spat out a piece of bleached hair that had gotten into his mouth.

“Yongsun, let him go.” The death grip around his arms finally loosened. A petite blonde beamed up at him. Namjoon sighed. “Jeongguk, meet Kim Yongsun, self-proclaimed fashion designer for the Avengers. Yongsun, meet Jeon Jeongguk, Biology major and Spider-Man.”

“But he’s so _young_.” Yongsun cooed and pinched his cheeks. “Look at them cheekies, I could squish them all day, aren’t you a cute lil squishy-”

“Getting to the matter at hand,” Namjoon raised his voice, “she’s designed a new suit for you with special features, more comfortable and less prone to letting your junk hang out.”

Jeongguk winced. The suit Seokjin had made for him was a hastily put-together contraption made from an old hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. It served its purpose- for the most part. His brother’s hands sewed stitches on people, not fabric, and a while ago, a video of him had gone viral, swinging from a building with his pants ripped and ratty underwear out for the whole world to see.

“Behold, the new and improved Spidey-Suit.” Yongsun bowed dramatically. “Complete with upgraded web shooters, eye lenses that filter external stimuli and utility belt, along with several pre-installed protective protocols.” She wiggled her brows. “And it’s _sexy_.”

Jeongguk wasn’t sure if he’d use the word ‘sexy’ to describe the suit, but it was definitely sleeker and more impressive than his old hoodie ’n’ sweatpants combo (sorry, Seokjin). Yongsun had kept the color scheme of red and blue, and the spider motif on the chest was the bigger cousin of the one he’d painted on the back of his hoodie, but almost everything else was new.

“Go on, try it on,” Yongsun urged.

Jeongguk stared back at the three pairs of eyes staring back at him. “Uh, some privacy, please?”

Byulyi rolled her eyes. “Literally everything that goes on in this room is recorded and Hobi’s definitely gonna be staring at you right now, but whatever floats your boat.”

The new suit fit him like a second skin. Everything was a thousand times clearer from the new lenses, and it didn’t feel like it would be giving him any unintentional wedgies anytime soon. He flexed his fingers. “Wow.”

Yongsun gave Namjoon a smug smile. “Told you he’d like it.”

“I _love_ it,” Jeongguk corrected. He grinned behind his mask. “And I can keep it? Like, from right now?”

Namjoon shrugged, a grin playing on his lips. “Certainly wouldn’t fit any of us.”

Jeongguk whooped. “Holy shit, this is amazing!” He aimed the ceiling and shot a web at it. The new webbing was stronger, tougher than before. Jeongguk pulled himself up and peered down at the three. “Thanks!”

Namjoon pressed a button, and suddenly, the distinctly warmer air outside hit him as one of the walls slid open. “The world’s yours for the taking, kid.”

Jeongguk whooped once more before swinging out, barely avoiding smushing his face on a nearby building. “I’m okay!” he called, his silhouette becoming a speck in the distance.

Byulyi sighed. “He’ll be dead in two weeks.”

Yongsun whined, but Namjoon gave her a cryptic little smile. “You’d be surprised.”

. . .

Seoul General Hospital was a place Jeongguk was intimately familiar with. He’d been born there- obviously he couldn’t remember that (unfortunately Seokjin could, and was fond of saying newborn Jeongguk looked like a naked mole rat whenever he was drunk and especially fond)- but almost every other time stood out clear in his mind. At age four, when he’d swallowed one of Seokjin’s toy soldiers. At age six, when he’d gotten his first fracture after falling from the playground swing at school. At age seven, when Chaeyoung’s baby brother Felix was born (who also looked like a naked mole rat back then in Jeongguk’s opinion, but Seokjin irritatingly begged to differ). At age thirteen, when a kindly old doctor had sat him down and explained to him that they did everything they could but he’d never be seeing his parents again.

But after Seokjin had gotten his appointment, every subsequent visit blurred together in his mind. Before the whole getting-bit-by-a-radioactive-spider-and-developing-superpowers thing, it was where he’d come straight after school, lugging his backpack up several flights of stairs to the staff room. Everybody loved Seokjin, and they loved Jeongguk by association, so he’d stay there until his brother’s shift ended, doing his homework or fiddling with his Nintendo.

After becoming Spider-Man, his visits became more sporadic- after all, saving the city (or, well, a sweet old lady from having her purse stolen) had no consideration of time- but he knew the inside of the place like the back of his hand.

And after becoming Spider-Man, he’d become pretty well acquainted with the outer structures too. For example, on the twelfth floor from ground level, the fourth window from the left, you could find his brother’s office.

Seokjin screamed when he smacked against the window.

“ _AHHHH_ \- oh, it’s you.” He set down the briefcase he’d brandished, and Jeongguk sent up a quick prayer for whichever deity that was watching over him for protecting him from a similar fate to Namjoon’s. Seokjin slid the panels open and let him inside. Just to show off, he crawled up the wall and onto the ceiling before somersaulting to his feet. “New suit? _Niiice_.” Jeongguk flexed his arms and Seokjin hummed appreciatively. “Oh, fuck; someone’s coming- quick, hide-”

Jeongguk allowed himself to be unceremoniously shoved into a cupboard. Seokjin had barely slammed the door shut when another doctor peered in.

“Everything alright? I thought I heard you scream.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Jisoo- it was just a spider.” Seokjin lied himself silly.

“Nasty buggers.” Jeongguk could almost hear Jisoo shudder. “You got rid of it, I hope?”

Seokjin made a noise like a balloon losing air.

Jisoo took that for an affirmative. “Well, I’m off, then. Gotta go shove my hand up someone’s vag.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, you useless lesbian. We all know why you became a gynecologist.”

Jeongguk strained his ears until he could no longer hear the sound of Jisoo’s heels, and he pushed the door open. Seokjin was still cackling at his own joke.

“It wasn’t that funny.”

Seokjin wiped tears from his eyes and glared at him. “You’re still shorter than me. Namjoon should’ve had the suit made with platform heels.”

“I’d use them to kick your ass.”

“Can you reach that high, you gremlin?”

Jeongguk shoved his brother. “Fuck off.”

“Respect!”

“Fuck off, _hyung._ ”

“That’s better.” Seokjin ruffled his hair. “I’d better be off now, too. Go on- go save the world. Incinerate aliens, or whatever. And _be safe_!”

“Sure thing, Mom!” Jeongguk dodged the kiss his brother tried to give him, and swung outside.

. . .

Gangnam City was the part of Seoul you saw on brochures; the glamorous storefronts, the high fashion, the cityscapes in K-dramas- it was the pretty face Korea showed the world.

And then there was Gangbuk.

The Han River divided Seoul not into two parts but two worlds; Gangnam was the utopia, the uptown life, the elite and the beautiful. Gangbuk was another world entirely; where Gangnam had towering, shiny skyscrapers, Gangbuk had derelict tumble-down ruins; where Gangnam’s inhabitants were the rich and the affluent, Gangbuk was infested with the vermin of the world: the poor, the homeless, the criminal. Tales of robbery, murder and suicide were considered small talk there.

Jeongguk had never been allowed there; certainly not when their parents were still alive, and Seokjin hadn’t loosened the restrictions after their demise. He’d often sat perched at the edge of a building that looked over the Han to the other side, oddly drawn in. Hardly anyone from the other side ventured too close to the river, and even when they did, they had no interest in anything going on above them. He wanted to explore, but his brother’s dire warnings and his own fear of the unknown had barred him from getting too close.

Now, though. What was it that Yongsun had said- upgraded web shooters, better lenses, utility belt? Some other protocols? He was close to invincible.

He took a deep breath to steel himself and crossed the river.

Just to be safe, he pulled himself to a rooftop the first chance he got. Maybe later, when he’d gotten a better bearing of his surroundings, he’d walk on the streets. For now, he kept to the safe zones.

The way Seokjin had told it, he’d expected to encounter people getting mauled on the side of the road in broad daylight, or at least a gang fight or two. But Gangbuk’s residents were going about their lives; certainly not bedecked head to toe in designer outfits like people on the south side of the river, but they were hardly the psychopaths they were painted out to be.

Jeongguk trailed after a little girl in a muddy school uniform to make sure she got home safe, smiling to himself when a three-legged scrawny old mutt ran up to meet her when she did. A few streets down, there was a woman smoking a cigarette outside a building with a broken red lamp. The man lying on the curb next to her was either sleeping or drugged. Most probably both.

He was just about to turn back around when he saw _him_. Curly hair falling over an angular face, strong dark forearms revealed by his button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, broad chest, long legs. The man nodded at the woman before going into the building next to it; a short, squat place next to an ominously dark alley, an aged, weather-worn sign spelling out _BAR_ right next to it.

Jeongguk stared at the faint light that fell on the side of the road for a moment longer before swinging away.


	2. 0 0 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a lil heads up: this part is in Taehyung’s POV; it was supposed to be part of the first chapter but it got too long so… whoops
> 
> here ya go, have urself some emo hours with Tae
> 
> tw: Taehyung’s got mental health issues but they’re never explicitly discussed, but there are talks of suicide and death, so if you’re triggered by those stuff, please don’t read this! Jeongguk’s POV parts are gonna be pretty lighthearted but Tae’s in a bad place. Also, there’s a character talking about past drug abuse and shit

Almost two years, and the nightmares still hadn’t left him. He should’ve been used to them by now.

_Fire. Screams. Then nothing._

His t-shirt clung to his body, drenched in sweat. Flinging away his bedsheet, Taehyung drew knees to his chest. His heart was hammering wildly against his ribcage.

“Tae?”

A sliver of light fell on his bed, a rectangle that gradually grew wider as the door was pushed open. The bags under Jimin’s eyes were visible even in the dim lighting, more racoon than human. Taehyung curled further into himself, burrowing his head into his arms.

The bedsprings creaked and the mattress dipped. A pair of arms wound themselves around his shoulders, and he was pulled back into a small body. “You’re okay, bud. You’re here. Breathe, yeah? Deep breaths, slow. Close your eyes. I’m here.”

Taehyung turned his head, burying his face into Jimin’s neck. He smelled of cigarette smoke and underneath, lye soap. Taehyung ached. “Need a smoke.”

Jimin’s grip tightened. “That shit ain’t good for you.”

“Can’t sleep.” Taehyung pressed his lips against Jimin’s throat and felt his Adam’s apple bob. “Jimin, baby, please. One time.”

“It’s never ‘one time’ with you,” Jimin said, but he loosened his grip anyway, digging his hand into his pocket. The pack of cigarettes hit Taehyung in the face. “Gonna kill yourself someday.”

“Maybe that’s the goal.” The lighter flickered on and Taehyung just managed to get his cigarette lit when it went off. “Ah, fuck.” He blew the smoke out in Jimin’s face, just to be an asshole.

Jimin coughed, turning his head. “Gonna kill me too, motherfucker.”

Taehyung took another drag. “Stay away from me, then. Just gonna drag you down to hell with me.” He smirked lazily. “Probably seen worse, I bet. Hell can’t be much worse than this.”

“You’re a piece of shit, you know?” Jimin bumped his shoulder. “Love you, man. Don’t kill yourself.”

“Don’t make this gay, Min.”

“You’ve had your dick in me, don’t think this can get gayer.”

Taehyung took another deep drag and stubbed his cigarette out, regretting it the moment he remembered he’d broken his lighter. He could nick Jimin’s, anyway- for all his preaching, the bastard had enough ganja to smoke out the whole building stashed in his room. “Want me to put it back in you?”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Get on with it, then.”

The other side of the bed was cold when Taehyung woke up again. He lay swaddled in his sheets until he couldn’t stand the taste of his own breath, and dragged himself to the bathroom.

Jimin was in the kitchen, sipping something dark that was probably supposed to be coffee. Looked more like something you could find in a sewer and tasted no better, but he was convinced it was good. He’d made some of the gunk for Taehyung, too.

Taehyung took one look at the ominous black liquid in the mug. “What’s this supposed to be?”

“My shit.” Jimin took another noisy slurp. “Pissed on top of it, for good measure.”

“Sure looks like it.” Taehyung wrapped his fingers around the mug- the handle had been long gone when they’d gotten it, and the picture on the front might’ve been a dog in some past life. He took a sip and spit it right back out. “Oh man, that’s awful.”

“Like you could make anything any better.” Jimin emptied the dregs of his into the sink. “That’s all you’re getting till lunch, anyway. Or else, learn to cook.”

Taehyung snorted. “Aren’t I the luckiest man alive.”

Jimin beamed. “And you’d better remember that.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. “I want you to meet somebody today, by the way. An old friend of mine.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. “An ‘old friend’, huh?”

“Name’s Yoongi.” Jimin shrugged lazily. “Old friend, you could say. We used to fuck.”

“Of course you did.” Taehyung hid a grin. “So what’s his deal?”

“He’s a trainer. Y’know, boxing and shit- works at a gym a couple streets down.” Jimin avoided his eyes. “Thought you’d do better with that outlet. For coping.”

Taehyung carefully schooled his expression. “So instead of slowly killing myself with lung cancer, you want me to bite the dust by getting my ass handed to me?”

“Tae, you and I both know there ain’t nobody who could beat you. You don’t look like much, with those noodle arms-”

“Thanks, bro.”

“- _I’m just saying_ , they’re not boxer-thick- but you and I both know what I mean.”

“Don’t mean I want to, though.”

“Give him a chance.” Jimin never begged. He wasn’t begging now. Taehyung knew he’d back off he said _no_ once more. “There’s money in it.”

“Is that what this is about?” Taehyung gave up trying to stomach the vile contents of his mug and dumped it all in the sink. It pooled in a sad puddle in the drain. “I could pick some extra shifts up at the bar if you want me to.”

“God, no, Tae; you know that’s not it.” Jimin rolled his shoulders. “Look, I just thought you’d be into it, alright? Better coping mechanism than smoking. Yoongi- he’s a pretty solid guy, genuine as they come this part of town, and he’d do me a favor if I asked him to.”

Taehyung snickered. “Do your dick a favor, more like.”

Jimin grinned. “That too. He’s got a nice ass and nicer cock. Good for sucking. Better for fucking.”

“Spare me the details.” Taehyung kept his eyes on the dregs in the drain. “So where’s he live?”

Yoongi didn’t look like much of a fighter. He was actually kind of cute, if you could look past the knobby knees and chicken arms. Cat-like eyes peered out from a shock of dark hair, messy and unkempt.

“Yoongi Hyung.” At the sound of Jimin’s voice, the questioning pout he’d given Taehyung curled upwards, taking off years from his face. “This is Taehyung.”

“Come on in.” He tugged the hem of his t-shirt down. A faded cartoon character leered at them from his chest; some anthropomorphic farm animal from a badly dubbed show Taehyung remembered watching as a kid. It was a crap show, but the orphanage didn’t have any other channels beside the one.

Yoongi’s apartment was hardly the cutting edge of interior design- it was just a step up from Taehyung and Jimin’s- but here and there, there was an attempt to make it look homier. A few photos were tacked to the whitewashed walls, a newspaper clipping of an article about Daegu, and a tiny but carefully tended cactus dwelled in a mug a twin to Taehyung’s, only newer and with its handle mostly intact (turns out it wasn’t a picture of a dog on it at all; it was a tree).

Jimin’s eyes followed Yoongi’s back as he scurried into a room somewhere with a hurried apology. Taehyung raised his eyebrows when Jimin turned around. The only answer he got was a little shrug, but there was a blush rising high on Jimin’s cheeks.

Yoongi appeared a minute later, this time with pants on. Taehyung pretended he didn’t notice the strong smell of cologne emanating from him.

“Sorry for that.” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair. “I- uh- yeah.”

Jimin looked just as flustered. Taehyung was torn between finding the situation funny or awkward. “Nah, it’s cool. I’d better be off, anyway.”

“You’re not staying?” Yoongi’s crestfallen expression was as embarrassing as it was adorable.

“Got work to do, money to make.” Jimin waved his hands. “But I’ll come by later.”

Taehyung had a good idea of what they’d be getting up to ‘later’; Yoongi’s red face only cemented it.

He stared at the door long after Jimin left, snapping out of it only when Taehyung cleared his throat. “So how do you two know each other?” It wasn’t like Taehyung and Jimin were exclusive- the thought never crossed his mind, and he doubted Jimin had ever considered him as anything more than a convenient warm body whenever they’d fucked. Taehyung had assumed Jimin had felt the same about everybody else he’d had sex with.

Wordlessly, Yoongi hooked his index fingers around his lower lip and tugged it down. Black lines ran on the flesh like tire tracks.

“Thought I’d done it for good the last time. My family, the people at the clinic- man, even I’d given up on myself. And then this tiny towheaded kid comes and tells me to get up off my ass or he’d make me.” Yoongi chuckled. “I was so high, I thought he was an angel. Looks kinda like one too, doesn’t he? Then I told myself, _ain’t no way you’re going to heaven, Min, you done too much shit for that_.”

Taehyung really hoped he was right about the way Jimin felt about Yoongi.

“Been sober for close to a year now, longest I’ve ever gone. Not even alcohol.” He shook his head, a kitten in human form. “Not like I can afford it anyway, but it’s nice to know I wouldn’t, given the choice.” He cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed. “So what’s your deal? You wanna be a fighter?”

Taehyung nodded. “Jimin thinks I could trade nicotine for knockouts.” He took a deep breath. “I’m willing to take the bet.”

Yoongi’s gums showed when he smiled. “Show me what you got.”

. . .

“Want me to suck your dick?” Soyeon stuck her tongue out. “Got it the day before.”

Taehyung’s mind blanked at the sight of the shiny silver stud on the tip of her pink tongue. It glinted temptingly in the dim lighting.

“Soojin liked it,” she added, wiggling her brows.

“Soojin, huh?” Taehyung went back to wiping down the counter. Some asshole had scribbled the word _FUCK_ right on the edge. He traced the _U_ with a fingertip.

“Yup.” Soyeon flicked her tongue out again, mischievous, beckoning. Taehyung’s dick twitched. “Said she missed you.”

Taehyung snorted. “Missed my dick, more like.”

“Well, duh.” She threw her hair over her shoulder, hitting Taehyung in the face. He doubted it was by mistake. “Goes deeper than fingers. Got her a dildo for her birthday, maybe that’ll shut her up.”

“Glad to know I can be replaced with a disembodied plastic penis.”

“Glass, Tae.”

“There’s a difference?” Taehyung chanced a look over his shoulder. Soyeon was bent down, reaching for some bottles on the lower shelves. A hint of red lace peeked out from the hem of her shorts.

She straightened up, grinning when she noticed where his eyes had been. “Well, duh. Thought you’d know, gay boy like you.”

Taehyung’s grin dropped. There were hardly any people in the bar, and even the few who were there couldn’t care less. Still. “I never told you that.”

“Didn’t have to.” She wiped a bottle on her shirt, leaving a clean smudge on the dust-covered glass. “Who’s Hyunjin? Soojin said you were mumbling his name in your sleep.”

Her eyes were elsewhere. Still, Taehyung forced a neutral expression. “He’s my brother.”

Soyeon looked up at that, her jaw slack. “Forget I asked.”

“No, no- it’s not like that.” He dug a fingernail into the curve of the _C_ , wondering if he dared tear it off right now. He’d already broken it once, last night, at the fight club. It almost got him busted with Yoongi, when the older tried to help him with his hand. “What- what did I say?”

“Beats me. I sleep like the dead.” She gave up trying to clean the bottle and set it on the counter with a sigh. “You’d better ask Soojin.”

Taehyung pushed his finger forward abruptly, wincing at the stab of pain that went up his arm. Regenerative healing didn’t equate to less pain. And some wounds wouldn’t ever heal.

A cold gust of air hit Taehyung as the door to the bar opened. He kept his gaze on the counter, at his reddened fingernail.

“Please tell me he drew those with a Sharpie.”

Soyeon wasn’t the only one staring at the people who’d just entered. A guy and a girl, maybe just a few years younger than himself, but Taehyung would’ve never mistaken them for a couple.

Taehyung didn’t claim to know everybody who came in. Sure, there were a couple of regulars and people he might’ve passed on the street once or twice, but there was enough traffic that he might forget a decent amount of faces.

But not a face like that.

The guy had looked at him once before quickly turning his head back to the ground, but the crap lighting in the bar did nothing to diminish his beauty. Big doe eyes, cheeks that hadn’t lost all of their baby fat, lips that would make a Barbie doll jealous. Bougie folks, that much was obvious; trust fund kids with enough money to drown in, and then some. Their leather jackets were probably designer, boots without a scratch, and the rips on their jeans looked too perfect to not be deliberate.

Soyeon was gaping at the ink on the guy’s arms- they were too far away to make out anything clearly, but Taehyung thought he could make out a couple of English letters on his knuckles, and… was that a hot dog?

“See anything you like?” Soyeon’s bangs tickled his neck when she stood up on her tiptoes, and Taehyung jerked his neck back. “Big eyes, thick thighs, tiny waist…”

“He’s not my type,” Taehyung lied. “I don’t fuck teenagers.”

Soyeon raised her eyebrows. “Him? I was talking about _her_.” She giggled, smacking his shoulder with too much power packed in her punch for someone barely above five feet tall. “So you _are_ gay.” She flitted away before Taehyung could think of a satisfactory retort.

The girl, seemingly oblivious to all the attention they were garnering, dragged her- friend? Brother? – over to the counter. Soyeon had done a disappearing act, leaving Taehyung to deal with them.

“Hi!” Taehyung dubbed them Black and Pink, for the colors of their hair. Black seemed to find the floor very interesting, his eyes not moving from his shiny new boots.

Taehyung leaned over the counter. “What’ll it be, kids?”

Black mumbled something to his feet. Taehyung chose to ignore it.

Pink flashed him a bright smile. “Anything that will make me tipsy.” She giggled, too sweet a sound for her kohl-rimmed eyes and dark lipstick. “Just a little.”

“And what’ll it be for you?”

Black lifted his eyes just enough to look at the _FUCK_ on the counter. “Just water, please. With ice.”

Perhaps he wasn’t legal, though Taehyung doubted it- his face was youthful enough, but no one under the age of eighteen could be that ripped. Then again- he came all the way from Gangnam for something he could get from a faucet at home?

Maybe they were here for the thrill of it. _We went to Gangbuk and made it out alive,_ he imagined them saying to their preppy friends. A K-drama campus; manicured lawns, huge red brick buildings. Big ass marble statues, maybe, and fountains the size of Olympic swimming pools. _They tried to shoot us but bullets don’t go through Versace_. Fuckin’ rich kids and their weird ways to kill time.

At any rate, he wasn’t going to question them. He slid over a glass of the least alcoholic drink (tequila diluted about ten times) they had to Pink. Black clutched his glass of water like an infant with a bottle of milk, waddling over to the table farthest away from the counter.

He had his eyes on Taehyung the whole time. He averted them whenever Taehyung looked back at him, but he wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was. Pink kept up an animated flow of conversation, to which Black contributed in nods and shrugs.

“Someone has a little crush,” Soyeon said in a sing-song voice, reaching past him for a bottle. Taehyung rolled his eyes but avoided her for the rest of the night.

They didn’t come back up to the counter again. The night got later and the crowd got rowdier, and as uncomfortable as both of them looked, Taehyung had to hand it to them- they didn’t leave.

Jaebeom, as usual, arrived two hours late for his shift. He gave Taehyung an apologetic grin. Taehyung flung a wet dishcloth at his face in response.

“You’re in charge, I’m going out back for a smoke.” He pushed past a sputtering Jaebeom, fishing in his pocket for the lighter he nicked from Jimin.

He leaned against the wall, hoping the cigarette smoke would cover up the stench of garbage. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back.

“I’m not a kid.” _What the hell._ “And that’s not good for you.” _How did he get here so quietly?_

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “So he _does_ have a voice.”

Black was taller than Taehyung had thought at first- they were almost the same height. The faint light from a nearby window cast his face in a sickly yellow glow. “I-I’m serious.” _He had an overbite. Cute._ “Smoking is a leading cause of lung cancer, and- and it makes you more susceptible to other respiratory disorders.” He nodded his head self-importantly. “You could _die_.”

Taehyung was tempted to respond with a _What if I_ want _to die?_ but something about his earnest face held him back. Preserving the minds of innocents, let’s call it that.

Instead, he said, “What are you doing here?”

The boy looked like a deer in headlights. “H-here as in Gangbuk, or- or here as in this- this alleyway?”

Taehyung shrugged. “You pick.”

He nibbled on his lower lip. Subconsciously, Taehyung’s eyes were drawn to the reddened flesh, but he forced himself to look back up. “I, uh-”

Enjoyable as it was to watch him struggle for an excuse, Taehyung felt kind of bad for the guy, and decided to put him out of his misery. “Enjoy your water?”

The boy blinked. “Uh, yeah.” He shuffled his feet around a bit. “It- it was really- refreshing.” He cleared his throat, his mouth pulled up in a smile that looked painful, and said, a little too loudly, “I liked it,” and winced afterwards.

 _Fuck, he was adorable_. “Glad to hear that.” Taehyung’s cigarette had burned up nearly to the end. What a waste. “Well, I’m gonna head back inside. You stay here if you like.” He crushed the cigarette beneath his foot. “Bet you’ll love the night air. It’s pretty refreshing, too.”

When he got back inside, the girl was gone too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a canonical discrepancy you probably noticed if you ever watched Deadpool: I’m aware Wade can’t technically die, so I’ve tweaked the canon here so Tae can die, but only if he’s hurt real bad- like head off, split from the middle type of bad. He’s got super-fast regenerative healing- so, say, if he gets a finger lopped off or some shit, it grows back as long as he doesn’t lose too much blood for it to be fatal. Hope that clears things up- I’ll probably write it in at some later point but I just wanted to put this out in case you read it and was like ‘hoe stfu u can’t die’


	3. 0 0 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: violence & blood
> 
> some platonic Rosekook here because I love Roseanne Park

“I still can’t believe you said ‘it was refreshing’. What sort of weirdo says stuff like that?”

Jeongguk glared at the dissected frog in his textbook. The frog glared right back at him. “Chae, haven’t we recapped this enough? I’m a social casualty, we get it; I know it, you know it, your grandma knows it.”

Chaeyoung wiggled her eyebrows. “And now, so does that cute bartender.” Jeongguk chucked an eraser at her, making her yelp.

“You’re a piece of shit. And his name’s Taehyung.” Jeongguk had heard the female bartender call him that. Okay, so he’d been eavesdropping. He wondered what Namjoon would say if he knew what Jeongguk was using his heightened senses for.

“Well, then, _Taehyung_ is _hot_.”

“Your dad’s hot.”

She looked unbothered. “According to my cousin, my dad looks like Pitbull, but who am I to question my mother’s or your taste in men?”

“Argh, I hate you.” Jeongguk flopped down, face-forward, onto his book. “And I hate frogs.”

“You’re right, let’s watch TV like the dedicated college students we are and completely ignore our responsibilities.” Jeongguk was jostled as Chaeyoung shuffled around her bed, searching for the remote.

“I hate that you flex the fact that you have flatscreen in your room every time I’m over,” Jeongguk grumbled.

“You didn’t hate it so much when you wanted to watch Thai BL dramas last summer without Felix barging in every two seconds.” Chaeyoung patted his head. “Now move your fat ass, Guk. I can’t see.”

The first thing Jeongguk saw on the screen was himself, helping the Seoul Fire Department put out a blazing building. The tickertape running at the bottom read _SPIDER-MAN SAVES THE DAY AGAIN_.

“ _Thankfully, the building was an abandoned development project and no one was harmed_ ,” the reporter was saying. “ _The cause of the fire has not yet been confirmed, though officials suspect a gas leak. Just last month, a warehouse on the outskirts of Gangnam City went up in flames…_ ”

“Your butt looks nicer in your new suit.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Chaeyoung hummed. “It’s not as inconspicuous as your old one, though. Not as appropriate for stalking people.”

Jeongguk bashed his head against his book again. “For the last time, Chae, I’m not _stalking_ him. I’m… admiring him from afar without his knowledge.”

“ _Every step you take-_ ”

“Chae, shut up.”

“ _Every move you make-_ ”

“Honestly, fuck you.” Jeongguk covered his head with a pillow. He waited a few seconds and looked up, only to see Chaeyoung with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“ _I’ll be watching you_ ,” she sang. “Aw, baby’s blushing.”

He held up his middle fingers in response.

Chaeyoung’s stupidly angelic voice was still stuck in his head while he was sitting atop his usual perch that evening, with a clear view of the alleyway behind the bar. She’d been the one to insist they go make conversation with the pretty bartender after Jeongguk had told her about him, because ‘normal people don’t hide and stare at their crush, what the fuck, Jeongguk, you absolute creep; you should talk to him!’

And hadn’t that plan turned out swell?

He’d avoided his excursions to Gangbuk for two weeks afterwards, but something about that side of town fascinated him, and he found himself crossing the river more often than not.

And if it meant he got the chance to stare at a cute guy without any restrictions… well.

Taehyung walked to work every day. He’d come in around five but open the place at six- the hour in between, he’d go out back and smoke. Sometimes, if the girl who worked with him came early too, they’d never come out. Jeongguk didn’t like to think what they’d be doing inside for an entire hour.

Jeongguk wasn’t the only one waiting for him today.

The other man was pushing fifty. He had arms like tree trunks, a black wifebeater stretching taut across his barrel-like chest. Before Taehyung turned on the lights, the man went to the alleyway. Jeongguk didn’t like the look on his face- that was not an expression you’d wear to meet a friend.

The back door of the bar opened, and Taehyung stepped outside, lighter in hand.

Jeongguk barely had time to see the flash of silver before it was lodged in Taehyung’s abdomen. His body convulsed and he dropped his still unlit cigarette.

Jeongguk’s scream died in his throat. His hands were shaking as he tried to make his way down the building. He should’ve been on the ground, he’d _known_ that man meant nothing good, he could’ve been there in time-

“Not cool, man; this was my favorite shirt.”

Jeongguk stopped and peered down at the scene. Taehyung was looking down at the red stain spreading across his abdomen, the white fabric rapidly soaking up the blood. The hilt of the knife was still sticking out, and he winced when he pulled it out. The sight of the dark liquid staining the blade made Jeongguk’s legs go weak, and he nearly lost his footing. Taehyung tutted.

“What the fuck…” The other man backed up. His eyes blown wide open.

Taehyung rolled his shoulders. “Go to hell,” he said, and drove his fist into the man’s throat.

The man made a horrible gurgling noise, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. He fell to his knees, then collapsed, face-forward, at Taehyung’s feet. Taehyung stared at the knife in his hands for a long moment, and then walked back into the bar.

Jeongguk couldn’t tell how long he spent curled up in a ball on the ledge. His entire body felt numb and he didn’t trust himself to move without falling to his death. When he regained the feeling in his limbs, he shakily descended, keeping to the shadows.

It was a bitch to turn the body around. Jeongguk pulled his mask off and pressed his ear to his chest. Aside from the rapid pounding of his own heartbeat, he could hear another; faint, but there.

Too bad he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him.

“Move a muscle and I’ll stab you.”

. . .

The room reeked of ganja. Calling it a ‘room’ was fairly generous, in all honesty. It was just big enough to house a couple of crates and could squeeze in two people at most.

Taehyung pushed his captive inside unceremoniously. The kid (Black? Spider-Man? Taehyung wasn’t sure what to call him) stumbled but managed to keep his footing. Taehyung shut the door behind them, keeping the tip of the knife pressed to his throat.

Just yesterday, he’d bent Soyeon over these very crates and fucked her dumb. He wondered for a moment what Black would look like, pretty lips bitten raw and cheeks flushed, pale neck all marked up.

Taehyung wanted to laugh. _I have Seoul’s favorite vigilante under me, and I’m thinking of fucking him._

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t let you join the son of a bitch outside.”

Black raised his eyes, defiant. “Why don’t you?”

 _Because the cops don’t care when people like us get hurt. It’s a different story for people like you_.

Taehyung raised the knife until the tip pressed against the kid’s plump lower lip. He pressed down, not hard enough to break skin but with just enough pressure to serve as a warning. “Don’t tempt me.”

Black was quick, but Taehyung was quicker. He dropped the knife, using one hand to pin the younger’s wrists down and the other to hold the leg he’d tried to kick out with in place.

“Nice try, kid.” He tightened his grip on his thigh, unwillingly noting how thick it was.

“I’m not a kid.” The younger wriggled, trying to throw Taehyung off. He dug his nails into his flesh, and the younger gasped before blushing a furious red that damn near matched the color of his suit. “He stabbed you,” he blurted suddenly. “I _saw_ it.”

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “Great, do you want a fuckin’ gold star?”

Spider-Man scowling was a sight Taehyung had never anticipated witnessing, but color him surprised. “Why aren’t you hurt?” he pressed. “I saw the blood!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Taehyung was losing his patience. Maybe he should’ve just put a knife through the kid when he had the chance. “Maybe I should hold you ransom. How much do you think your parents would cough up for a pretty little thing like you?”

The kid stopped squirming to give him a sullen pout. “My parents are dead, asshole. My brother’s all that I’ve got.”

Taehyung stilled. The younger was still frowning at him, but he’d seen the flash of sadness at the mention of his brother. “Breathe a word of this to anyone, and you’re dead.” He stepped back, suddenly unable to look the kid in the eyes.

He could feel the kid’s stare on him, probably wondering if Taehyung letting him go was a trap, probably wondering if he was out of his mind. Taehyung was wondering the same thing.

“Go on, beat it.” Taehyung leaned against the crates, crossing his arms over his chest. “And don’t come here again unless you want to end up like the whoreson outside.”

Black left wordlessly. Taehyung waited until he saw the red-and-blue figure pull itself up to the rooftop before unbuttoning his shirt. He placed his palm over where the knife had been driven into his flesh. There wasn’t even a scar left behind.

. . .

“Get in, loser; we’re going shopping.”

Jeongguk looked at the groceries in both of his hands, grateful for the excuse. “Chae, dude, I really wish I could but hyung will skin me alive if I don’t go home right now, we were all out of cheese and he’s making lasagna for dinner today-”

Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. “Your brother works the night shift on Wednesdays, so all you’re having for dinner is microwaved pasta and banana milk.” She jutted out her lower lip. “You’ve been avoiding me. Come on.”

Her sad face sent a stab of guilt through Jeongguk’s heart. “Chae, I-”

“ _Please_ , Gukkie.” She made her eyes wide and puppy-like. “We’ll get dinner together. We’ll even go to that Indian place you like so much.”

Jeongguk threw his head back, sighing. “Fine, but you’re paying.”

Chaeyoung’s face split into a wide grin. “Anything for my sugar baby!”

He slipped into the passenger side of her sleek, deep blue Toyota Prius (he wasn’t jealous, he kept lying to himself). “No Felix duty today?”

Chaeyoung switched gears and pulled out of the parking lot. “Nah, Chan’s picking him up.”

“Your hot cousin Chan?” Chaeyoung made a face. “Chan I want to bang?” Jeongguk snickered at his pun.

“It still isn’t funny the ninety-seventh time around, Guk.”

“Well, I think it is.”

“Please stop thirsting over the men in my family.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “And don’t think that I can’t tell that you’re deflecting. You’re avoiding me.” She took a deep breath. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, God, Chae.” Jeongguk turned in his seat as much as he could without strangling himself with the seatbelt. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” She was biting her lip, her eyes wet. “No, don’t you fucking dare cry, you’re gonna set me off too.”

“Sorry for having basic human emotions, asshole.” She sniffled, and Jeongguk held out a box of tissues. “Thank you.”

Jeongguk sighed. “It’s got nothing to do with you, actually. It’s Taehyung.”

“Ooh!” Chaeyoung turned down the radio. “Tell me all about your yaoi drama; I’ve been having a dry spell so I need to live vicariously through your love life.”

He gnawed on his lip. “Hypothetically speaking, what would you do if you saw someone getting stabbed?”

“You _WHAT_ -”

“Chae, the car!”

Chaeyoung swerved, narrowly missing colliding with a truck going in the opposite direction. The driver swore at them.

“Flip him off for me- thanks.” Jeongguk did as he was told. “Now, repeat what you just told me, but start from the top.”

Jeongguk drew his legs together. “I- I saw Taehyung getting stabbed the other day.”

“Fucking hell, Jeongguk.” Chaeyoung glanced at him, eyes wide. “So he’s-”

“No, no- he’s alright. That’s the thing.” Jeongguk wrung his hands together and took a deep breath. “I dropped by this whole week and watched him from the rooftop. Chae, it’s as if he was never even hurt.”

Chaeyoung sucked in her cheeks. “Holy shit.”

“Exactly.” Jeongguk shook his head. “I know what I saw- there was blood _everywhere_. But.”

“Did you tell anybody else?”

He pulled a face. “Hyung doesn’t know I’ve been going to Gangbuk, so I don’t know how to bring it up. And one rando weirdo dude would hardly be of interest to Mr. Kim. It’s not like I have to tell them _everything_ ; I can deal with Taehyung myself.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And how’s that going, Mister Independent-Gukkie-Who-Don’t-Need-No-Iron-Man?”

Jeongguk narrowed his eyes at her. “You know, you’re not very funny, either.”


	4. 0 0 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy belated birthday to ww.handsome, Mr. Kim Seokjin

Chaeyoung was waiting for Jeongguk outside the lecture hall, thumbing the straps on her backpack. Her lips downturned into a sympathetic frown when Jeongguk mimicked shooting himself.

She slung an arm over his shoulders as they walked down the length of the hallway, her free hand rubbing his arm that was closest to her. Jeongguk rested his weight on her. “Assignments: fuckload. Ass: kicked.”

“Hotel: Trivago.” She giggled when he glared at her. “Sorry.”

Jeongguk pouted. “Literally the only redeeming quality of Professor Choi’s Class of Torture is Mingyu sitting in front of me. Staring at the back of his head is the only thing that keeps my blood glucose level from depleting.”

“Speaking of Mingyu,” Jeongguk foretold imminent doom from the feline smile growing on Chaeyoung’s face. “There’s a party tonight, at Lisa and Minnie’s- the Thai exchange students from Biology, remember? - and a little birdie told me that the football team will be showing up. Ergo, the football captain.” She nudged him, wiggling her eyebrows.

Jeongguk pretended to ponder this, even though he’d made up his mind already.

“C’mon, Gukkie!” Chae grasped his hand in both of hers and swung it so hard he was worried she’d tear it right out of its socket. “I’ll dress you up all pretty, like the nerdy girl who’s a Victoria’s Secret Angel behind her glasses, and you’ll walk into the party I practically had to force you to go, and all eyes will be on you, and Mingyu will come up to you all suave and swaggy and be all, _‘May I have this dance?’_ , and then you’ll go up to his room and see all the books there and he’ll pretend to be shy and you’ll find out that he’s actually a sweet, scholarly boy behind his jock façade.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Have you been reading Harry Styles fanfiction again?”

Her grin became almost feral. “Nope!” She skipped away and halted in her steps a few feet in front of him. “It was a Niall one!”

He jogged to catch up to her, sighing and shaking his head. “Okay, but you have to promise to give me an extreme makeover, like in the movies, so I look superhot and fuckable.”

“Done!” Chaeyoung squinted at the entrance to the campus. “Hey, isn’t that your sugar daddy’s ride?”

Jeongguk followed her line of vision. His stomach sunk at the sight of the now familiar sleek black Rolls-Royce idling in the driveway. Hobi was leaning against the door, effortlessly handsome in aviators and a dark suit. He lifted a hand in greeting when Jeongguk met his eyes. “Fuck me sideways.”

“I’d let him, too.” Jeongguk turned to her, horrified, and she shrugged. “Run along before he screams at you for the whole faculty to hear. I’ll text you the deets tonight.”

Jeongguk mumbled a thank-you and speed-walked to the vehicle. Hobi held the backseat door open for him, and Jeongguk’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight of Kim Namjoon sitting on the opposite side.

“Who’s the chica?” Hobi asked, right after Jeongguk stumbled through a greeting aimed at Namjoon.

“Chaeyoung?” Jeongguk peered out the window. His best friend was still standing where he’d left her, waving. Jeongguk waved back until Hobi pulled into the road. “She’s my best friend.”

“She’s hot,” Hobi said nonchalantly, and Jeongguk pulled a face.

“Ignore him.” Namjoon smiled benignly at Jeongguk, and his heart did a weak flutter. “You’re not in a hurry, are you? I’m sure Seoul can survive for an hour or so without its favorite vigilante.”

Jeongguk blinked. “If- if you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Kim, where are we going? And why am I here?”

Namjoon’s smile turned cryptic. “HQ. I’ll tell you when we get there.”

This time, the song playing in the elevator was a 2NE1 song from 2011. Jeongguk was torn between singing along and remaining quiet. Only the presence of Namjoon next to him held him back from belting out the lyrics.

“Oh, I love this part,” Namjoon said suddenly. “Minzy’s,” he added, as if Jeongguk didn’t know. “Legends.”

Okay, so maybe Jeongguk was a little bit in love.

Jeongguk trailed after Namjoon into his office like a duckling behind a mama duck. He idled in the doorway while Namjoon walked over to his desk straight away and made a few hand motions that looked curiously like the choreography for 2PM’s _Hands Up_. He staggered back a few steps when the screen on the wall right next to him came to life. A photograph of a hook-nosed woman with fishlike eyes stared back at him. The electric blue letters next to her read _SHIN SUNBOK_ , and in smaller font below was what seemed like her entire profile.

“Jeongguk, what do you know about GMOs?”

Jeongguk started at Namjoon’s question. “Uh, genetically modified organisms?” Namjoon’s gaze was unwavering. “Organisms with modified genomes- they don’t occur in nature; their DNA has been altered so it contains genes from other organisms.”

Namjoon nodded. “Have you heard about genome modification post-birth, for multicellular eukaryotes? Specifically for large mammals.”

Jeongguk’s frown deepened. “Epigenesis?”

“Induced.”

“Like how I got my powers?”

“Precisely.” Namjoon waved his hand again, and Jeongguk shrunk back in horror at the sight of a large horse strapped to an operating table. The animal was thrashing its head wildly. A woman- Shin Sunbok, the one from the photo- approached the beast with a machete, and drove it into its stomach, dragging it down. Jeongguk’s knees felt weak at the blood that spurted out, the horse letting out a terrible noise of agony.

And then, as he watched, the skin stitched itself together. A thin red scar was all that remained of what Sunbok had inflicted on the animal. But even though Sunbok tried in vain to get the creature to wake up, it remained lifeless.

Namjoon appeared n the frame, almost lifesize, his image grainy. Jeongguk glanced at the date at the bottom of the video, surprised to see it was over a decade ago.

The Namjoon of twelve years ago had darker hair and a more rigid posture. _“What is the meaning of this, Dr. Shin?”_ he asked, voice harder than Jeongguk had ever heard it to be.

Shin Sunbok cowered in front of him. _“It is almost perfect! The genes that mutated should have made it indestructible! It was just that the animal was too large- if only you’d permit to use smaller test subjects- humans, specifically-”_

 _“You’ve pestered me about this before, and the answer remains no.”_ Namjoon-on-screen’s shoulders sagged. He walked over to the dead animal and stroked its head. _“Poor bastard.”_

Sunbok wrung her hands. _“Mr. Kim, I beseech you-”_

Namjoon wheeled around to face her. _“This must be the last I hear of these wretched experiments of yours. Clean this up now, and work on something less unsuccessful.”_

The video cut off. Jeongguk stared at the screen, which was showing Dr. Shin’s profile again.

“She worked at Kim Industries since my dad was in charge.” Jeongguk met present-day Namjoon’s eyes. “And then she disappeared a week after what you just saw. We searched her lab right after she was gone, left no stone unturned- the only thing she’d left behind was the very horse she killed, locked up in a massive deep freezer with several other of her failed experiments. No trace of her anywhere- like she dropped clean off the face of the earth. Until a few months ago.

“Hobi was alerted one night that someone had broken into the old Kim Industries building. We don’t have much there, just a couple of things my dad and grandad owned, but they’re expensive all the same, so we keep the place under security. He’d checked on those, and they’d been untouched. But there was a noise coming from the lab- the one Dr. Shin used to work in, the same one you saw. And when he’d gone over there-”

He motioned towards the screen again. Jeongguk gasped when he saw the very same animal Dr. Shin had murdered all those years ago standing in the lab, completely unscathed. The date at the bottom of the video dated several weeks back, just a few minutes before midnight.

“The DNA matches with the one from twelve years ago. And there wasn’t a scar in sight. It was as if he’d never been hurt.”

Namjoon was still talking, something about regenerative healing and cryogenic preservation, but Jeongguk’s mind was in Gangbuk.

“… This is definitely Shin’s work, I know it.” Jeongguk’s mind snapped back to the present. Namjoon, seemingly oblivious to Jeongguk having zoned out, was still talking. “And if she managed to reanimate an animal as large as that, she could definitely do it for a human… She’s out there playing God, and we’ve no clue where she could be.”

“What do you want me to do?” There was a war waging in Jeongguk’s mind. Part of him wanted to tell Namjoon about Taehyung, about how he’d seen the man completely alright after he’d been severely injured, and the other part was holding him back.

“We need to run a few tests on you, if you’re okay with that. Nothing too severe; just a routine DNA extraction, see how the mutated alleles appear in human DNA.”

Jeongguk gulped. “Will it hurt?”

The smile Namjoon gave him was not reassuring at all. “Nothing you can’t take.”

. . .

“Do you think this top goes better with these jeans, or with these?”

Jeongguk gave a critical look to the two pairs of pants Chaeyoung was alternatingly holding to her hips. “Definitely the latter.”

His patrol of the streets had been thankfully uneventful for the most part that afternoon- it gave him more time to think about the whole Taehyung situation. Technically, he _should_ tell Namjoon, it was for the greater good- but Taehyung threatened him to not tell anyone- but what was Taehyung against Iron Man- but would Iron Man really protect him at all times? Namjoon wasn’t his babysitter; maybe it wasn’t even Dr. Shin who’d made Taehyung whatever he was- who was he kidding, how many people could achieve what Sunbok clearly had-

Hours later, Jeongguk still hadn’t come to a resolution on the matter. He’d made his way to Chae’s house at half past five like she’d instructed. Chaeyoung, high on pre-party adrenaline, hadn’t noticed Jeongguk’s conflicted state of mind and was ransacking all the outfits in her closet, searching for something for her- and by extension, Jeongguk, because, “You’re not going to a party to meet the man of your dreams looking like _that_.”

Jeongguk looked down at his skinny jeans and the dark shirt he’d worn over it. He thought he’d cleaned up pretty well. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Oh, honey. Oh, my sweet, poor, naïve, young child.”

Close to an hour later, yet Chaeyoung was no closer to deciding on what to wear. She had seized a long-sleeved blouse just as her brother Felix poked his head into the room. “’Sup.”

Chaeyoung yelped and tumbled into the pile of clothing. “Felix, what have we said about not giving each other heart attacks?”

Felix beamed at his sister. “You’re not supposed to have closed doors in this house, noona, remember?” He sidled into the room, throwing finger guns at Jeongguk. Jeongguk reciprocated the gesture.

“Baseball practice went well today? How many times did you stare at Changbin’s ass?” Chae asked, digging through the pile again.

Felix balled up a nearby jacket and flung it at her. “I do not _stare_ at Changbin Hyung’s ass, I _appreciate_ it. There’s a difference.”

Chaeyoung sighed. “My brother and my best friend are both budding stalkers. What does that say about me?”

Felix ignored her, sinking down on the bed next to Jeongguk. “And actually, Changbin Hyung didn’t come to practice today.” He looked stricken, and Jeongguk ruffled his hair sympathetically. “I wrote two thousand words for _Webs of Love_ during the break. I’m almost done.”

Chae gave Jeongguk a sly grin, who desperately tried to keep his face neutral. Apart from being a full-time high school student and part-time member of the Gangnam YMCA’s baseball team (and apparently, part-time connoisseur of his teammate Changbin’s ass), Felix was an aspiring fanfiction writer.

Particularly fanfiction about Spider-Man.

“Iron Man’s finally coming to terms with how he feels for Spider-Man,” Felix continued, blissfully unaware of his sister burying her face in her clothing, trying not to laugh, and Jeongguk trying not to defenestrate himself. “After Spider-Man’s confession weeks before, he’s battling with his inner feelings, trying to come to terms with his sexuality. Iron Man’s on his way to confess to him, but Spider-Man’s battling Firefist, and he’s not as focused as usual because of his broken heart.” Felix beamed. “I might kill Spider-Man just as Iron Man gets there. I like giving my readers pain.”

“Firefist?” Jeongguk repeated, the name unfamiliar.

Felix nodded brightly. “Yeah- the Gangnam Arsonist? They’re all over the news. I thought it would be cooler to name them ‘Firefist’, because the first one’s just a mouthful.”

“Don’t you think it’s not very morally correct to write about real people?” Jeongguk said weakly.

Felix shrugged. “As long as the people in question don’t know about it, I’m fine.”

Chaeyoung snorted, which she quickly covered up with a cough. Jeongguk schooled his expression to remain unaffected. “Spider-Man might not be the dashing young homosexual you imagine him to be,” Jeongguk tried again.

“Nah, he’s definitely a twink.” Felix shook his blond hair out of his eyes. “Have you seen his suit, hyung? That thing screams bratty bottom energy.”

Chae gave up trying to hold in her laughter and collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles. Jeongguk glared at her, disgruntled.

Felix slapped his hands on his thighs. “Well, I’m off. Have fun at the party. I’ll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I’m not there. And noona, I’m too young to be an uncle just yet.” He darted out of the door laughing as an angry Chaeyoung threw a slipper at him.

“I relate to Seokjin Oppa so much,” she sighed. “We both have annoying younger brothers.”

It took several seconds for her words to sink in. “Hey!”

. . .

“Good luck tonight!” Soyeon called, leaning over the counter. “Don’t die!”

Taehyung made an ‘OK’ sign with his fingers. “Thanks.”

Yoongi was waiting for him outside, hands in his pockets. His breath came out in little visible puffs of air. “The guy tonight’s from Gwangju. Big name, big guy. I fought him myself a couple of times- he’s pretty fuckin’ scary, I’ll tell you that.” He thumped Taehyung’s back. “But if anyone can take him and win, it’s you. I believe in you.”

“Gettin’ gay on me, Min? Save that for Jimin.” The red flush on Yoongi’s face was worth it.

The fight club was underground, a couple blocks away from the bar, right below some dilapidated garage where a few homeless drug addicts loitered around. Taehyung had befriended a few of them in the weeks he’d become a regular fighter. Only one of them was there now, a wizened old man with more scars than unmarred skin.

“Hey, Duho,” Taehyung called out. “Where are the others?”

Duho gave him a toothless smile. “Went off with some rich fella who came by a couple days ago. Probably off in his big ol’ Gangnam house now, suckin’ his cock.” Duho’s eerie grin widened. “He didn’t want nothin’ to do with an old geezer like me. His loss, I say- I can’t even bite.”

Taehyung snorted. “You have a good night, Duho.”

“You kids, too.” He wiggled his eyebrows, the only bit of hair remaining on his head. “If you want, I’ll suck your cocks for a bit of bread.”

Taehyung laughed, exchanging a look with Yoongi, who looked just as amused. “We’ll take you up on it sometime, Ahjussi.” He waited until they were out of earshot of the old junkie before looking at Yoongi again. “‘Rich fella’? What’s a guy like that doing in a place like this?”

Yoongi scoffed. “Duho considers anyone who has shoes a ‘rich fella’. Bet it’s just some corrupt cop. Poor old bastard probably can’t tell a police uniform from a tux.”

There was a decent crowd inside the club already. Taehyung brushed his hair out of his face and walked over to the room he got changed in whenever he fought. He stripped down to his jeans- black, so that stains didn’t show up as easily.

Yoongi poked his head inside moments later. “Taehyung, you’re up in two. Go get ’em, tiger.”

Taehyung stepped into the ring, Yoongi hovering close behind. He met his opponent’s eyes, grinning at the large man. The man snarled back.

The angrier, the better. Taehyung had this in the palm of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u tell I know jackshit about fighting lmao? hope that last part in Tae’s POV wasn’t too cringe (give me ur critique pls I’m thirsty for it)
> 
> also I can’t say that what I wrote for JK and Joon’s convo about the GMO thing is 100% accurate, I learned bio roughly 394758 mya and that’s as much as I remember lol.
> 
> research? who dat b?


	5. 0 0 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter count has gone up, in case you’ve noticed. This was meant to be a part of the last chapter, but halfway through, I realized it got way too fucking long. Sorry for the prolonged wait between chapters, I’ve been focusing on putting the finishing touches on LUMOS for most of December- but this chapter’s longer than usual, so I hope it’s worth the wait? 
> 
> also: smut and violence ahead! Both are pretty explicit, lol.
> 
> also also: merry belated Christmas for those of you who celebrate it, hope the rest of you had a lovely time as well, and happy early new year 2021! Here’s to hoping the next year isn’t as much of a shitshow as 2020 was #yikes

Fun fact about Jeongguk: he hated parties. He’d stopped enjoying them since they stopped handing out goodie bags at the end. Less than fun fact about Jeongguk: he inconveniently forgot about this fact until he was at one.

Whatever neon poison that was in his red solo cup was barely touched. It was more a prop for his aesthetic than anything else: Dark, Brooding Young Adult at House Party Who Can Hold His Liquor Like a Pro.

At least, that’s what he hoped his aesthetic was, instead of the Kid Who Lost His Mom at the Grocery Store he truly was- the kid being himself and the mom being Chaeyoung.

He hadn’t lost Chaeyoung, per se- he could still see her cotton-candy hair in the sea of acquaintances who’d surrounded her the moment she stepped inside. Jeongguk couldn’t hate her for it- after all, he had literal decades’ worth of being Chaeyoung’s sidekick in the coming-of-age movie that was her life- but he’d expected to have her to himself for a little longer than 0.2 seconds.

Jeongguk’s teeth were rattling in his skull from the heavy bass of the shitty EDM track booming through the speakers. A girl from a year above his- Jennie? Jessi? – had been telling him about her cats for the last five minutes, and Jeongguk had run out of sounds of polite agreement. Jennie/Jessi didn’t seem to mind, gesticulating wildly as she regaled the tale of how exactly Whiskeria (“You pronounce it like _Wisteria_ , but with a _kuh_ instead of a _tuh_.”) had gotten stuck in her neighbor’s tree.

Worst of all, the entire reason he had come to this wretched party in the first place was nowhere to be seen. Jeongguk hadn’t seen a single football player, least of all Mingyu, in the hordes of people already here.

Jeongguk was just about to fake explosive diarrhea to detach himself from the painfully one-sided conversation he was having, when he felt a prickle on the side of his neck that gradually spread to his fingertips. His Spidey Senses- or, as his brother and Chaeyoung had so irritatingly dubbed it, the Gukkie Tingle- were acting up. Something needed his attention.

“Hey, dude.” He snapped his fingers in front of Jennie/Jessi’s face. “This is gonna sound really gross, but I really have to take a shit.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, you’d better run, then-”

“Nice meeting you!” Jeongguk shouted and darted out the door, pretending not to hear her shout of, “ _Wait, don’t crap in the bushes; the toilet’s upstairs!_ ”

Jeongguk dashed into the first dark alleyway he found, pulling his shirt out of his jeans as hastily as he could. He stuffed the clothes he’d been wearing (a spangly dark shirt and skinny jeans Felix owned for some reason) into the dumpster, grimacing as he did so- hopefully he could appease Felix with some Spider-Man fanart (well, actually a self-portrait, but Felix didn’t know that).

He was wearing his suit underneath- Yongsun’s state-of-the-art design had somehow made the suit skintight but comfortable, and he sent a quick prayer of thanks to the eccentric blonde before doubling back out of the alleyway and pulling himself onto a rooftop the first chance he got.

His instincts led him to an old warehouse, not too far from the one that had burned down a couple of months ago. Through a window, he could see flames licking up the walls of a room, and without a second thought, he darted inside. His eye lenses and suit filtered the smoke, and he made his way through the building, searching for signs of life.

He didn’t see anyone until the topmost floor.

“Hey, dude!” he shouted at the dark figure standing a few feet in front of him. The smoke wasn’t as thick as it was downstairs, but it was getting there. They had to leave before the whole thing became a funeral pyre. “I’m coming there, man- we gotta go.”

The figure turned around. It was dressed head-to-toe in black; black hoodie, black jeans, even a black mask covering the entirety of its face. It looked like a three-dimensional shadow. Subconsciously, Jeongguk halted in his steps. Something was off about the guy- like the one he’d seen in the alleyway, who’d stabbed Taehyung- only this one was more sinister.

The figure’s hands were aflame. Jeongguk recoiled. “Dude, your hands are on fire!”

It lunged for him. Out of pure reflex, Jeongguk pulled himself up to the ceiling.

He had a split second to assess his assailant- the flames remained on the tips of its fingers, none of its clothes catching fire like they were supposed to- until it made another motion, as if it was trying to capture him. Jeongguk flipped over onto his feet- smoke was filling the room, and he could barely see two feet in front of his face. At one point, he managed to land a hard kick at the figure’s arm. There was the sickening crunch of a bone shattering, and the figure fell to its knees.

And then there was another crack, louder, like a floor about to give way.

Jeongguk launched himself in the general direction of the window he’d seen when he’d come inside, hoping his coordination hadn’t failed him and he wouldn’t hit the wall instead. He went flying out the window, Seoul’s polluted air smelling like an English countryside after his ordeal in the burning building.

He managed pull himself up (read: fling his body like a sack of potatoes) to the roof of the opposite building. Jeongguk barely had time to get to his feet before he heard a distant rumble, and what had once been a building collapsed in flames in front of him.

There was no way anybody could’ve survived it- no human, at least.

But had the figure he’d seen really been a human?

Jeongguk collapsed on the rooftop, the pain of hitting the concrete barely registering. He took deep, gulping breaths, closing his eyes. Distantly, he could hear the sound of sirens- if he looked over the side of the building, he would see the fire department rushing to the scene, entirely too late.

Instead, Jeongguk turned to the other side, and looked at the world beyond. He got to his feet and steeled himself, looking at the river that separated him from the other side.

He needed answers, and he was going to get them now.

. . .

Jeongguk pulled out his phone, typing a hurried text to Chaeyoung as he took brisk strides across the street. He nearly tripped over a hole the size of a crater in the pavement but managed to right his footing at the last moment, avoiding a much unneeded concussion and/or loss of teeth.

_hope u got home OK._

Her response was instantaneous, as if she’d been waiting with her phone in her hands- which, come to think of it, she probably was. Chaeyoung knew better than to think he’d been abducted whenever he disappeared without prior notice, but that didn’t stop her from worrying.

_I’m fine. Where r u???_

He pocketed his phone without replying to her, because he didn’t know how to answer to that.

If the sleepy-eyed bartender who worked with Taehyung had told the truth, Taehyung had been at a fight club all night. That ruled him out from being a homicidal Firefist (Felix was right, the name did roll off the tongue easier- though Jeongguk wasn’t sure about the etiquette associated with naming someone who’d tried to attack you)- but again, only _if_ he’d gotten an honest answer.

Jeongguk desperately wanted it to be true.

The ‘fight club’ was underground, literally. Jeongguk had only ever seen places like it in movies, and Hollywood had made it seem a lot less scary than it actually was.

There was no way he could push to the front of the crowd- people were packed like sardines in a can, and Jeongguk didn’t want to bring too much attention to himself anyway. He hoped nobody could smell the smoke on him with everything else that was going on- he’d doubled back home to pull on an old hoodie and jeans before crossing the river and had drowned himself in perfume (Victoria’s Secret Body Mist, because cologne made for men made his nose itch). The artificial lavender overpowered most of the stench on him, but here, everything was drowned out in the smell of sweat and alcohol and blood.

Oh God, the blood.

The ‘ring’ was bordered by people, the number of spectators determining its diameter. Jeongguk stood on his tiptoes, peering over the shoulders and heads of the people in front of him to get a better look at the two men beating each other to a pulp in the center.

Well, _one_ of them was getting beaten to a pulp.

Taehyung’s lips were pulled back in a snarl, the look on his face something animalistic. There certainly was no ounce of humanity in the way he drove his fists into his opponent’s body. Blood streaked his body like paint on a canvas- Jeongguk doubted most of it was Taehyung’s own, though. He wondered if nobody noticed Taehyung’s skin being unmarred despite the brutal beatings he’d gotten. There was no way even the most seasoned of fighters could leave a match unscathed- people had to take note, right?

Taehyung’s opponent finally surrendered, lying limp on the floor while Taehyung stood above him, his bare chest heaving with each breath. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead and rivulets of sweat streaked down his gold skin and he looked so effortlessly gorgeous that Jeongguk found himself forgetting why he was there in the first place.

He didn’t think twice about pushing past the crowd to trail after Taehyung when the match was over. He kept his head bowed, muttering apologies whenever he bumped into someone, but his eyes never left Taehyung’s broad, bare back.

Taehyung disappeared into a dingy little room, and Jeongguk cast a tentative glance over his shoulder before slipping inside.

Taehyung’s back was turned to him. Jeongguk took a moment to appreciate the expanse of tan skin stretched over pure muscle, how his wide shoulders tapered down to a slim waist.

“You know you’re not exactly subtle, right?”

Jeongguk flinched. Taehyung still had his back turned to him.

“What are you doing here, kid?” Taehyung finally turned around. There was a ratty towel in his hands- Jeongguk couldn’t tell what its original color was underneath all the dirt and grime. Seokjin would’ve screamed bloody murder if he’d seen such a thing in Jeongguk’s hands. “How did you get in, anyway? I asked Yoongi to keep people out.”

Jeongguk frowned. “I don’t know who Yoongi is, but they’re obviously shit at their job, wherever they are. And I’m not a kid.” He flicked his eyes down Taehyung’s body, definitely not lingering at his abs for a moment longer than they should’ve. “Also, you’re bleeding, smartass.”

“I’m well aware.” Taehyung wiped the blood away, anyway. As expected, there wasn’t a single scratch underneath. “Thought I told you to stay away. Go home, kid.”

“For the last fucking time-” Jeongguk stalked over to Taehyung and pinned him against the wall. “I am _not_ a fucking kid.”

Infuriating him even further, Taehyung cocked an eyebrow. “So that’s how you wanna play, huh?”

Jeongguk’s breath was knocked out of his lungs as Taehyung flipped them over easily, his strong arms caging Jeongguk in. Jeongguk was suddenly made very aware of the fact that Taehyung’s very naked, very muscly chest was very close to him, and Taehyung’s face a hair’s breadth away. Jeongguk gulped. There was something predatory in Taehyung’s eyes- not the rage he’d had while he pummeled his opponent to the ground, but something different altogether that nevertheless made Jeongguk feel like a prey.

He desperately hoped Taehyung wouldn’t look down. Alas for that thought.

Taehyung pressed closer until his leg was neatly slotted between Jeongguk’s. The action made his thigh press against the growing bulge in Jeongguk’s jeans, and because Jeon Jeongguk’s self-preservation was at a negative value, he whined.

The look in Taehyung’s eyes was carnal. “Might be you’re not so much of a kid after all.”

Jeongguk had made plenty fun of Chaeyoung for reading boyband fanfiction with the cliché ‘their lips _crashed_ together’, but it might be those One Direction fanfic writers from 2014 were onto something, because there was no other way to describe how their lips met. Taehyung wasted no time in fucking _devouring_ Jeongguk’s mouth, his teeth biting down on the soft flesh of Jeongguk’s lower lip. Jeongguk gasped, barely registering his head hitting the wall when he threw his head back.

His blunt nails were digging into Taehyung’s bare shoulders, probably tearing skin, but it wasn’t like it would leave marks on his skin. Jeongguk’s knees almost gave way when Taehyung reached behind to cup his ass, Taehyung’s big hands squeezing it.

“Take me home,” Jeongguk managed to breathe out. Taehyung pulled back long enough to give him a mildly surprised look, before it settled into his usual nonchalant smirk.

They left through a back door which led into an alleyway not unlike the one Taehyung had gotten stabbed in. “Some people don’t take too kindly to losing,” was the only explanation Taehyung provided, in answer to Jeongguk’s question of why they couldn’t leave through the front.

Jeongguk pulled on the drawstrings of his hoodie. Taehyung hadn’t said a word since leaving the club and walked several paces in front of Jeongguk. Was he having second thoughts? Had Jeongguk made his inexperience obvious? Not that he was a virgin- Kim Younghoon had certainly seen to that back in the eleventh grade- but you couldn’t exactly master _Kama Sutra_ positions at sixteen.

Jeongguk gulped when Taehyung stopped outside a building that wasn’t too different from the warehouse Jeongguk had watched burn down just hours prior. It painted the sort of picture in dystopian films: the single streetlight that was still in operation cast an apocalyptic orange glow over broken glass bottles strewn everywhere, along with other objects and parts of objects that had long since served their purpose. The concrete walls were covered in spray-painted profanities. The patches of ground visible beneath the broken concrete showed reddish-brown, dry soil- not even a weed poked up through the gaps.

Jeongguk tried to keep his gawking to a low as Taehyung wordlessly led him into the building. For a brief moment, Jeongguk entertained the possibility that he was about to be murdered. _For want of a dick, a life was lost_. He brushed the thought away- Taehyung had ample opportunity to do away with him the last time they’d met, and he’d let him go.

 _Although, the deal was that he’d beat the shit out of me if we met again_. Hopefully, Taehyung didn’t honor every promise he made.

Jeongguk stumbled after Taehyung on the steep flights of stairs they ascended- whoever designed the building certainly hadn’t considered that people larger than garden gnomes might use the staircase. Taehyung, unaffected and cool as ever, never stumbled once.

He stopped outside a door in a corridor that smelled strongly of smoke. Jeongguk wrinkled his nose.

“Our neighbor runs a meth lab.” Taehyung said it like anyone else would mention the time of day.

“Ah,” Jeongguk said, trying to seem cool and not make it obvious that he was shrinking away from the opposite door.

Taehyung produced a well-worn key from his jeans. The door creaked open in a perfect imitation of a horror movie sound effect. Jeongguk sincerely hoped the reanimated corpse of a Japanese woman wouldn’t be waiting for them inside.

“You want some water or something?” Taehyung strode over to what Jeongguk assumed must’ve been the kitchen, cordoned off from what was presumably the living area with a circular table, two chairs that matched neither the table nor each other pushed in.

“I’m good, thanks,” Jeongguk mumbled, trying not to stare as Taehyung’s distractingly prominent Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with every gulp of water he took.

Taehyung wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Jeongguk stood next to the couch, tugging on his drawstrings. _Maybe Taehyung was regretting kissing him,_ a little voice at the back of his mind said, but just as Jeongguk was weighing the pros and cons of flinging himself off the balcony, Taehyung said, “C’mon.”

_Getting murdered or dicked down, what will it be?_

Taehyung was shedding his own sweater when Jeongguk walked in. Jeongguk watched from the doorway, regretting not accepting a glass of water when his throat went dry at the sight of Taehyung’s lean body. Taehyung looked over at him with an eyebrow raised. “What are you waiting for? Strip.”

Jeongguk nodded, a little too enthusiastic. “For the record, my name’s Jeongguk.”

Taehyung’s jeans pooled around his ankles. “Taehyung.”

 _I know. I listened in on your conversation with your coworker_.

Jeongguk stripped down to his boxers, regretting it the moment Taehyung’s grin turned devious at the cartoon Iron Man print. “For your information, I didn’t think I’d be getting laid today.”

Both of Taehyung’s eyebrows lifted upwards. “Would that have made a difference? Would you get all dolled up in pretty lace if you’d known, baby?”

Jeongguk’s knees went weak at the pet name. Taehyung’s grin softened, which made Jeongguk even weaker.

“C’mere, pretty.” Taehyung sat on the bed and spread his legs, patting his thighs. Jeongguk could see the outline of Taehyung’s stiff cock through his underwear, obscenely large.

Jeongguk peeled off his offending boxers. His dick, harder than it had ever been (sorry, Younghoon), sprung up to his stomach. He sat himself down in Taehyung’s lap, his thighs bracketing Taehyung’s, feet just brushing the floor.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Taehyung breathed. Jeongguk barely had time to register his blush before Taehyung’s mouth was on his again, this time more desperate than the last.

Taehyung’s wandering hands cupped Jeongguk’s ass and squeezed the supple flesh. Jeongguk gasped, and Taehyung made the best of the opportunity to curl his tongue around Jeongguk’s. Jeongguk rocked his hips forward, and the friction between his bare dick and Taehyung’s (generous) bulge drew a loud moan out of him. “ _Puh_ \- please, hyung.” Jeongguk didn’t even know what he was begging for.

“Words, baby.” Taehyung bit down on the juncture between Jeongguk’s neck and shoulder, and Jeongguk keened. “Use your words.”

Jeongguk’s nails dug into Taehyung’s shoulders. “Fuck me. _Please_.”

Taehyung’s lips curled up into a smirk against Jeongguk’s collarbone. He wasn’t as jacked as Jeongguk, but it belied his strength. Jeongguk was reminded of it when Taehyung suddenly picked him up before flipping them over onto the bed.

“On all fours.” Taehyung’s tone had turned icy, domineering. Jeongguk scrambled to his hands and knees with an eagerness that would’ve embarrassed him if he wasn’t so damn hard. “And don’t even think about touching yourself.”

Jeongguk squirmed when cold lube trickled down his ass crack, maybe too much than was needed but who was he to complain? “Warm it up, asshole.”

Taehyung’s fingers dug into his hips as a warning. Jeongguk hated how his breath stuttered. “Watch your mouth, sweetheart.”

A snarky retort was on the edge of Jeongguk’s tongue, but his mind went blank when Taehyung’s index finger breached his rim. Taehyung’s fingers were _long_ , holy shit. “ _Huh_ \- hyung, oh my God.”

“You’re so goddamn tight, fucking hell.” Jeongguk pushed back when Taehyung eased his middle finger inside, spreading them apart and scissoring. Taehyung groaned. “ _Fuck_ , look at you, baby.”

“Fuck, _please_ , hyung,” Jeongguk whined. Taehyung added a third finger and curled them inside of him. Jeongguk’s mind was reeling. “Please, I wanna- I’m gonna-”

“Sh, baby.” Taehyung slipped his fingers out and Jeongguk almost sobbed. “Gonna fuck you now, okay?”

Jeongguk sniffled. “Okay.”

He kept the side of his face pressed to Taehyung’s thin pillow, his arms and knees supporting the weight of his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Taehyung tear open a foil packet, and roll the condom down his length. Jeongguk took in a deep breath, which was knocked right out of his lungs when Taehyung pushed in.

Taehyung paused when their hips were flush together, for which Jeongguk was grateful, considering the fact that Taehyung was _huge_. “Can I move, baby?”

Jeongguk fisted the sheets. “Yeah.”

The sheets crumpled underneath him as Taehyung moved his hips. Jeongguk wanted to cry from how good he felt- maybe he did, actually, since the pillow underneath him was soaked through.

“ _Oh._ ” Jeongguk flopped down on his belly at one of Taehyung’s particularly hard thrusts. “Oh God, hyung, yes, right there-”

Taehyung rolled his hips, torturously slow. “God, you feel so good, baby.” He pulled Jeongguk up and wrapped an arm around his waist, picking up the pace of his thrusts, hitting Jeongguk’s prostate nearly every time. Breathy moans left Jeongguk’s parted lips every time Taehyung moved in, his head lolling against Taehyung’s shoulder so he got an earful of each one of Jeongguk’s little noises. “Such a tight little ass.”

Jeongguk whimpered. “Hyung, please.”

“C’mon, louder, sweetheart.” Taehyung’s hand trailed down to grip Jeongguk’s cock, pressing his thumb into the little slit. Jeongguk’s moan was pornographic. “Ah, there you go.”

“Oh my God, Taehyung.” Jeongguk reached behind to tangle his fingers in Taehyung’s hair, yanking on the fistful he got. Taehyung growled and snapped his hips forward. “ _Huh_ \- harder.”

The pace Taehyung set was brutal. Jeongguk let his body go limp, supported only by Taehyung’s grip. Taehyung’s hand around his dick tightened, and Jeongguk let out a loud wail. “You’re so good for me, baby. So fucking perfect.”

“ _Guh_ \- gonna cum, hyung, please, I-” Jeongguk’s body jerked, his balls pulling tight. “I- I wanna-”

Taehyung groaned. “Go ahead, baby.”

Jeongguk let out his loudest moan yet, eyes rolling back in his head as his cum splattered on the sheets. He would’ve fallen over if not for Taehyung’s hold.

Taehyung came into the condom not too long after. He waited for his breathing to regulate before gently lowering both of them onto the mattress, still inside Jeongguk, his dick creating a constant pressure. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

Jeongguk grumbled, lying boneless on the bed as Taehyung slipped out. The immediate emptiness was disorienting, but Jeongguk doubted they were at a stage where Taehyung would be comfortable letting him cockwarm. His brain told him the thought of having Taehyung buried inside of him for an extended period of time should’ve aroused him, but his dick was too spent.

Jeongguk struggled to keep his eyes open as Taehyung got off the bed, but it had been a long couple of hours for him, and his eyelids fluttered shut as he drifted off into sleep.

. . .

Taehyung twisted his shoulders, eyeing the smooth skin. Jeongguk’s nails had broken skin, but there wasn’t a trace of that, or the few hickeys he’d managed to sneak in. Taehyung was almost disappointed.

He wiped himself down with a damp towel, running it under the water and wringing it before stepping back into his bedroom. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the boy in his bed- kicking him out seemed too cold, even though Jeongguk could surely defend himself, but Taehyung wasn’t down for cuddling someone he barely knew.

Jeongguk had solved his dilemma for him. He was curled atop the dirty sheets, butt naked and sticking out, soft snores that couldn’t be anything but genuine escaping his lips. Taehyung strongly doubted Jeongguk could act to save his life, anyway- he had the sort of innocent, wide-eyed wonder a child had- not that Taehyung knew what that was like, but he’d seen the look before, on Hyunjin. The look of someone who always saw the good in everybody, despite the world giving them enough reasons to believe otherwise.

Taehyung sighed, crawling over on the bed to gently push Jeongguk over onto his back before wiping down the mess on his body. Jeongguk twitched and muttered something that sounded vaguely like, ‘burgers’. Taehyung held his breath, but Jeongguk only sniffled once more before falling silent.

He finished cleaning Jeongguk up of all bodily fluids before chucking the towel in the vague direction of the doorway. That would be Tomorrow Taehyung’s problem. Tonight Taehyung was far too exhausted to do anything besides conk out.

Jeongguk’s hands were curled into fists by his sides. Taehyung maneuvered him to slip on a pair of Jimin’s loose shorts that had somehow found their way into Taehyung’s closet, and one of Taehyung’s own t-shirts. It hung past the hem of the shorts; despite Jeongguk being buff as hell, his shoulders weren’t as wide as Taehyung’s, and his waist was _tiny_ , so the shirt seemed massive on his frame. Taehyung pulled on a pair of sweatpants himself before lying rigidly next to Jeongguk- he could sleep in Jimin’s room, since he wasn’t home (probably halfway across town with Yoongi’s dick down his throat), or take the couch, but he was too tired to move his limbs. Jeongguk could hardly blame him, anyway- _he_ wasn’t the one who’d fallen asleep in a stranger’s bed.

He turned to his side. Jeongguk’s long lashes rested against his cheeks which retained vestiges of his baby fat, his rosebud mouth slightly open. Taehyung found himself wondering what it would be like to wake up next to Jeongguk, right before he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *me, becoming a Deobi in the midst of writing* “Fuck, I have to slip at least one of The Boyz in here somewhere.”


	6. 0 0 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm for all the kudos + comments you guys have left, omg- some of y’all have even commented on multiple chapters ;-; I might not respond to all of your comments because I am an Awkward Plant but rest assured that I’ve read all of them... multiple times 
> 
> fair warning: I am quite bad at writing action, and only marginally better at smut, so- sorry for this chapter ;-;

Oh Sehun was, by all metrics, the shittiest neighbor to exist. Something or another was always burning in his apartment, which made the whole floor smell like a crematorium. He blasted heavy metal at ass o’clock in the morning. He only took his trash out as far as outside his door, so every time Taehyung stepped out, he had to make sure he wouldn’t be setting his foot in something vile.

But by far, Sehun’s most annoying habit was how he insisted on roping Taehyung into unwanted conversations several times each week.

Taehyung opened the door to see Sehun leaning on the opposite wall, a green bong in his mouth. Sehun gave him a sleazy grin, nodding his head. “Howdy, neighbor.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Sehun. Fancy seeing you here.”

Sehun’s grin widened and the bong nearly fell out of his mouth. “Going to work?”

“Yup.”

“Sweet.” Sehun blew out a puff of smoke.

Taehyung tried to walk away. Unsuccessfully.

“Haven’t seen Jimin in a while.”

Jimin was crashing at Yoongi’s, but Taehyung wasn’t going to explain the ins and outs of his best friend’s love (?) life to Sehun. “Nope.”

Sehun took a long drag. “Lolita’s pretty cute.”

Taehyung stopped in his tracks. “ _Who_?”

He was strongly tempted to shove the bong down Sehun’s stupid throat when the latter spent an infuriatingly long time with a greasy grin on his stupid face. “The kid who’s been coming over.”

Taehyung hoped Sehun hadn’t traumatized Jeongguk too much. “He’s not a kid. And don’t bother him.”

Sehun held his palms up in surrender. “You know me, Tae-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“- I ain’t ever bothered nobody,” Sehun barreled on, undeterred. “Unless he _wants_ me to bother him. And believe me, I wouldn’t mind giving him a pain in the ass, if you know what I mean.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Go fuck yourself, Sehun.”

He didn’t bother waiting for whatever stoned retort Sehun would come back with, and stormed down the hallway. The walk to the bar helped cool down most of his rage, and the rest of it dissipated when he saw Jeongguk sitting at the bar. He fought a smile off his face as he walked inside, but his attempt proved futile when Jeongguk whipped around to face him.

Soyeon gave him an all-too-knowing smile when he strode over and placed a hand on the small of Jeongguk’s back. Jeongguk leaned into his touch, a queasy half-grin on his face, possibly remnants of his reaction to whatever Soyeon had been telling him before Taehyung came in. A Biology textbook was spread out in front of him, notably a page with a diagram of a tentacle.

Taehyung had seen her hentai collection, so he had a faint idea about what Soyeon could’ve told Jeongguk that had made the latter so uncomfortable.

“No work today?” Taehyung stepped behind the counter and rolled his sleeves up. Jeongguk’s eyes went to his hands- Taehyung had taken note that Jeongguk had a thing for hands, or maybe it was just for Taehyung’s- Taehyung wasn’t complaining either way.

Jeongguk licked his lips, and it took every last ounce of composure in Taehyung to refrain from diving in to kiss him. “Mr. Kim told me to take the week off, ’cause of exams.” He grimaced. “Also, he’s sleeping with my brother, so I suspect there was some pressure from Hyung’s part.”

Soyeon, who was drawn to gossip like a moth to a flame, skidded over to them. “Your boss is screwing your brother?” she gasped.

Taehyung held up a finger. “Ah, but consider: his brother could be screwing his boss.”

Jeongguk retched. “I would like to be excluded from this narrative.”

Soyeon gave him a little pat on his forearm. “Tough luck, sugar; now tell me more. Did you walk in on them at work, or were they banging on the couch?”

Much to Jeongguk’s (palpable) relief and Soyeon’s (even more palpable) disappointment, Yoongi walked in, interrupting them.

Yoongi slumped into the seat next to Jeongguk, who was eyeing him curiously. His arm was in a sling, and he winced when he bumped it against the counter. “Had a fight last week. The son of a bitch broke my goddamn arm.”

“Shit, that’s gotta hurt.” Taehyung winced. “The usual, hyung?”

“Yup.” Yoongi finally took note of Jeongguk. “Hey, kid.”

Jeongguk’s pretty face twisted into a scowl. “I’m not a kid.”

Yoongi blinked. “Sure… kid.”

Taehyung stepped in before Jeongguk’s scowl darkened. “Yoongi Hyung, meet Jeongguk. Jeongguk, this is Yoongi Hyung.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Jeongguk.” Yoongi held out a hand.

Jeongguk grasped it with more force than necessary. “Pleasure’s all mine… _hyung_.” Taehyung hid a grin.

Yoongi’s eyes flicked over Jeongguk. “Nice ink.”

Soyeon coughed, and Taehyung shot her a glare. Jeongguk noticed neither of them, his eyes wide in surprise. “Oh, uh, thanks.” He swallowed. “I like yours, too. Especially the matchbox.”

Yoongi glanced at the design on his uninjured arm. “Yeah, got it a while back. There’s this place a couple blocks away- AleXa’s? – she’s really good.”

Taehyung had seen Yoongi’s tattoos enough times for them to have lost their novelty, but there was a new one he hadn’t seen before on Yoongi’s left ring finger- a tiny _J_ at the base.

Jeongguk and Yoongi seemed to bond over their mutual appreciation for body art- a much more wholesome duo than Jeongguk and Soyeon, despite Soyeon’s insistence that she had been nothing but genteel with Jeongguk.

Once, when Jeongguk had called for a bathroom break, Yoongi waved Taehyung over. “I like the kid,” Yoongi declared. “You two dating?”

Taehyung made an odd noise at the back of his throat. “It’s… complicated. We’re taking it slow.” His shoulders sagged at the unimpressed look Yoongi threw him. “Look, I don’t know, okay? I’ve known him, properly, for, like, three weeks. And I don’t know where it’ll go.”

An uncharacteristically soft smile overtook Yoongi’s features, and for a split second, Taehyung could see why Jimin was so besotted for the man. “Well, wherever it goes, I’m rooting for you.”

Taehyung pretended to projectile vomit, and Yoongi duly whacked him over the head with a beer bottle. “Fuck you, man, that hurt.”

“Those were my intentions, yes.”

Yoongi took his leave a little while before Jimin was due to get off from work. Jeongguk retired to a seat at the counter near the corner, his Biology textbook in hand and a glass of water next to him that Taehyung and Soyeon took turns refilling.

Soyeon threw Taehyung a suggestive look when she left at the end of her shift, standing in the doorway and poking her index finger into the circle she’d made with her other hand. Taehyung threw the wet dishcloth he’d been using to wipe down the counter at her. Thankfully, all the customers had left, leaving only Taehyung and Jeongguk to witness her antics- and her indignant squawk when the dishcloth hit her smack in the face, followed by a string of expletives.

“She’s a… character,” Jeongguk commented, his face aflame.

Taehyung snorted. “That’s one way to put it. Her girlfriend’s even worse.”

Jeongguk shifted in his seat. “She told me she’s slept with you.”

Taehyung paused, glancing over at Jeongguk, who was steadfastly staring at his textbook. “Yeah, her and Soojin have an open relationship.”

“That’s cool.” Jeongguk was gnawing on his lower lip, which was only slightly redder than his face.

“Are you going somewhere with this?” Taehyung narrowed his eyes, striding over to where Jeongguk was. He placed a hand on Jeongguk’s book and tipped Jeongguk’s chin up. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me, baby?”

A visible shudder ran through Jeongguk’s body at the pet name. “She… she told me you’ve hooked up here,” he admitted. “And I was wondering…”

Excitement coiled in Taehyung’s gut. “Do you want me to fuck you here, too?” Jeongguk bit his lip and nodded. “C’mon, say it, lovely.”

Jeongguk licked his lips. “I- I want you to- to fuck me. Here. Now.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that, now, can I?” Taehyung grasped Jeongguk’s chin in his hand and leaned down, pressing their lips together. Jeongguk gasped and tried to get closer. Taehyung pulled away, feeling a sadistic sense of satisfaction when Jeongguk whined. “Come on, pretty. Get up.”

Jeongguk swung his legs over the counter, and Taehyung pressed closer to him immediately. Jeongguk’s hands went to his shirt, insistently tugging at the fabric. “Wanna suck your cock, please,” he mumbled against Taehyung’s lips, and fuck, if Taehyung didn’t have a boner before, he was definitely raging hard now. Jeongguk yanked at the zipper of Taehyung’s pants and finally succeeded in pulling it down. He didn’t bother getting them all the way off before slipping his hand under the waistband of Taehyung’s boxers and pulling his dick out. “You’re so fucking big, hyung.”

Taehyung licked his lips. “Yeah?” Jeongguk wrapped his hands around Taehyung’s cock, slicking it up with precum as he jerked it off.

Jeongguk got on his knees and let out an almost reverent sigh. “Yeah,” he breathed, and wrapped his lips around the head.

Taehyung hissed. Jeongguk’s mouth was wet and warm and heavenly and Taehyung wanted nothing more than to fuck his throat so hard he couldn’t talk for days. He peered up at Taehyung, the picture of innocence if not for the cock in his mouth. “You’re so gorgeous, baby.”

Jeongguk took Taehyung’s dick deeper into his mouth in lieu of a reply, his tongue swirling around the length. He bobbed his head slowly, his hands gripping Taehyung’s thighs and trying to move him forward.

Taehyung gaped down at him. “You want me to fuck your face?” Jeongguk nodded and hollowed his cheeks.

Taehyung steadied himself with one hand on the counter and the other on the back of Jeongguk’s head. He tightened the grip he had on Jeongguk’s head and gave a shallow experimental thrust. Jeongguk’s breath stuttered. Taehyung waited until he nodded again, and fucked into Jeongguk’s mouth, harder this time. Jeongguk dug his nails into Taehyung’s thighs, looking up with glassy eyes. Taehyung tightened his grip on the counter and picked up the pace of his thrusts.

Taehyung groaned. “Fuck, Jeongguk, baby; you’re so good.” Jeongguk was a sight; his dark hair messy, tears streaming down his reddened face, but he was doing his best to make Taehyung feel good, hollowing his cheeks and moving his head in time with Taehyung’s thrusts. “Such a good boy for me, aren’t you? Fuck, look at you.” Jeongguk moaned around Taehyung’s cock. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Jeongguk moaned again, and Taehyung shoved deep one last time before cumming down Jeongguk’s throat. He managed not to choke, miraculously.

Taehyung pulled out with a hiss. “Christ, you’re a wet dream. Up you go, baby.”

Jeongguk got to his feet shakily and let Taehyung press him up against the counter, looping his arms around Taehyung’s broad shoulders and pulling him down to his level. Their lips were barely a millimeter apart when the door to the bar opened.

“Hey, the bar’s closed,” Taehyung said over Jeongguk’s shoulder. “Sorry, man.”

There were three of them, all men, and Taehyung didn’t like the look of any of them. “We’re here for you, pretty boy,” said the one in front, the guy with the dreads.

“You think I’m pretty?” Taehyung managed to pull both himself and Jeongguk down the same moment a dagger went whistling past where his head had been just moments prior, lodging in the wall behind them. “Not cool, man.”

“What the fuck?” Jeongguk hissed, wide eyes watching Taehyung as he grabbed the knife under the counter, his other hand stuffing his dick back into his pants.

Taehyung managed to get the zipper up without circumcising himself, and counted it a miracle. “Stay put while I deal with this.”

“What the fuck is _this_ -”

He leapt over the counter, catching the men off-guard. He kicked out at the guy to Dreads’ left. Taehyung’s feet connected with his face and the man was sent reeling backwards, clutching his broken nose (and teeth, possibly) as blood gushed out between his fingers.

The first man roared, lunging at Taehyung. Taehyung met him head on, landing a punch on the man’s jaw. The man had another knife in his hand, and Taehyung blocked it with his own. “Christ, you’re bad at this.”

“You little son of a bitch-”

Taehyung’s eyes widened as a blade whizzed right past them, almost grazing his corneas. _Holy fucking shit, Guy #3 had a goddamn katana blade_.

There was a yelp from behind him, and Taehyung glanced behind him to see Jeongguk pinning the man he’d kicked to the ground, pressing his face to the concrete. “The bastard tried to get you from behind!” Jeongguk said indignantly. Another katana blade lay at his side.

“Give me that.” Taehyung reached for the blade, stabbing his knife in Dreads’ thigh and pulling it out just as quick.

The last man didn’t stand a chance. Jeongguk caught him in a savage kick to the back of his head at the same time Taehyung drove his fists into the man’s abdomen. The man’s face purpled and he went down like a sack of rocks. All three of the men were quite still. A small puddle of blood was forming under the man Taehyung had stabbed. Jeongguk glanced at it once before his face blanched, and he looked away.

“We make a good team,” Jeongguk declared, as he finished patching the last man up (“None of them are fatally injured, thankfully-” “It’s pronounced ‘unfortunately’-” “ _Hyung_!”).

“We do, don’t we?” Taehyung reached down to grab the other katana blade, missing Jeongguk’s surprised grin. “Damn, these are neat,” Taehyung whistled. “I’m keeping these. Hey, it’s not stealing if it’s from a criminal.”

“What were they here for, anyway?” Jeongguk poked the temple of the guy nearest his feet.

“Told you, some people just don’t like losing.” Jeongguk’s face bore a stunning expression of bewilderment. “Sometimes it’s the people who bet on the fights, sometimes it’s the guys with the one who loses.”

“So that man who stabbed you that one time…” Jeongguk wrung his hands together.

“Yeah.” Taehyung hated the stricken expression that came over Jeongguk’s face.

“What did you do with him?” Taehyung had beat the guy up to within an inch of his life and threatened to finish off the job if he ever showed his face again, but Taehyung didn’t suppose Jeongguk would be particularly thrilled with that answer. “Never mind that, what are we gonna do with _these_ guys?” Taehyung looked at the katana blades. “Hyung, no.”

“Rats.”

Eventually, they settled on (quite literally) kicking them to the curb. Apart from an old homeless man across the street (who immediately crossed the road to strip the men of their belongings), no one was there to witness it- or even if they were, they didn’t care.

“What about the police?” Jeongguk asked, looking over his shoulder as if he expected someone to materialize and read them their Miranda Rights.

Taehyung scoffed. “Law enforcement doesn’t happen this side of town. Sure, the occasional patrol car goes by, but they’re usually headed to brothels or fight clubs.”

Jeongguk’s lips tugged down. “That’s not right.”

“A lot of things aren’t.” Taehyung flashed him a grin, and Jeongguk’s face softened marginally. “Including the fact that you couldn’t get off earlier.”

Jeongguk snickered. “Fuckin’ criminals, robbing me of my orgasm.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. “And we can’t have that, can we?”

Sehun was nowhere to be seen when Taehyung came back to the apartment with Jeongguk draped over his back, his hands slipping into Taehyung’s jeans and Taehyung half-heartedly swatting them away.

He backed Jeongguk up against the door the moment they were inside. Jeongguk responded with no lack of enthusiasm, his hands fumbling to pull Taehyung’s clothes off.

“I never did get to fuck you on the counter,” Taehyung said, his words muffled against Jeongguk’s eager lips.

Jeongguk’s breath came out in ragged pants. “A table should serve just as fine.”

After bending Jeongguk over the table and making him come apart with the combined efforts of Taehyung’s tongue and fingers, Taehyung carried a boneless and sleepy Jeongguk to his bed. He was out like a light the minute his head hit the pillow, and Taehyung curled up next to him. Jeongguk had been bashful the first time they’d woken up together, but it had been a pleased sort of bashful, and Taehyung hadn’t been able to quell the butterflies fluttering around in his own stomach at the sight of a sleep-ruffled, adorable Jeongguk in his bed.

Taehyung slept fitfully; his dreams going, as they often did, to bare concrete walls and needles going into his skin and being cut open and sewn back together- and as they often did, they ended at the screams of a boy, of himself, before everything went up in flames.

He woke up discombobulated and sweaty, the morning light hitting his eyes damn near blinding him. Taehyung waited for his eyes to adjust to the light before turning onto his side.

He knew he’d fucked up when he saw Jeongguk’s large brown eyes staring back at him.

“Who’s Hyunjin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read a Sehun x Kai enemies-to-lovers fic the other day and it took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that the characters weren’t suddenly becoming easily surprised old ladies whenever they said, “You’re going to regret this, Oh.”
> 
> also, if u got thru that fight scene without cringing, you have my thanks. If you did cringe, you have my apologies.


	7. 0 0 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no TaeKook in this chapter, sorry- but it’s a pretty plot-heavy chapter, so here’s a bit of Tae’s sad boi™ backstory
> 
> also: do u guys prefer when an antagonist is an idol, or an OC???

**_TWELVE YEARS AGO_ **

Taehyung had never been easy to deal with. As a child, he’d been a nightmare for his caretakers; he’d practically spent his entire life in the system, having been dumped on the steps of an orphanage somewhere in Daegu by parents who didn’t want him. Nobody else wanted him either; he’d been shunted from orphanage to orphanage thrice by the time he was a teenager.

When he was fourteen, he met Hyunjin.

Hyunjin’s birth parents had died in a car crash when he was six. It had been all over the news; the accident had left not one but three orphans; two of them brothers, one of them Hyunjin. One of the brothers had been a legal adult, and after many court proceedings, he’d been allowed custody of his younger sibling. They’d been the media’s darlings for several jarring months; the older brother a brilliant premed student with K-drama levels of handsomeness, and the younger never shown properly to the cameras, both of them residents of Gangnam.

Hyunjin hadn’t been so lucky; he’d been an only child, with no living relatives, and not a penny to his name. Several months of trauma and exhaustion later, he’d ended up in Mother Theresa Children’s Orphanage of Daegu, Est. 1984, of which Taehyung had been an upstanding resident for all of two months.

Hyunjin was an easy target for bullies. He was starved and underfed and prone to bursting into tears when provoked, and preferred to be alone than in company. And he always saw the good in people.

Which was perhaps why he’d been so interested in Taehyung; the boy nobody liked, who got into fights for no reason, who had an entire room to himself because the other kids were afraid he’d hurt them.

The first words Hyunjin had said to him were: “I like dogs.”

Taehyung, ever the conversationalist, said, “I don’t care.”

“Do you want to see mine?”

Taehyung gaped at the chubby-cheeked child in front of him. “What?”

Hyunjin pressed a stubby finger to his lips. “You’re not supposed to tell anybody, though! I’m only telling you because you don’t have any friends!”

Fucking _ouch_.

But Taehyung’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. Kkami turned out to be a tiny, coal-colored mutt Hyunjin had discovered behind the dumpster. He’d been feeding it on bread scraps and the rubbery omelets they got for breakfast.

After that day, Kkami had acquired another person to feed him.

Two weeks later, Kkami went missing. Hyunjin had been inconsolable; the caregivers had tried every method they knew (alternatively trying to soothe him with contrived consolations and then yelling at him to, “Shut _up_ already- why are you even crying?”).

To everyone’s surprise, including Taehyung’s own, he walked up to the boy. “Hey,” he’d said. “Can I hug him?”

And Hyunjin’s tiny body had curled into Taehyung’s open arms, and Taehyung felt something warm in his chest, something which made him feel terribly fond of the younger boy in his arms.

And things stayed that way for years. They found a family in each other; Taehyung protected Hyunjin from all the kids who’d make fun of him, and Hyunjin was Taehyung’s first friend.

And then the lady in the yellow dress came, the one who wanted to adopt Hyunjin.

**_NINE YEARS AGO_ **

Four more months, and Taehyung would be gone for good. Just a hundred and twenty days left, and he’d be starting the new year free; no more breakfast bells and doing all the chores that required more exertion because he was the oldest orphan there, no more putting up with the younger kids’ whines and the older kids’ complaints, no more-

“Hyunjin?” Taehyung paused in the doorway, staring at the lanky boy sitting crisscrossed on his mattress. “Shouldn’t you be in the office?”

Hyunjin looked up, tears welling in his eyes. Angrily, he wiped at the snot on his upper lip. “Do you want to get rid of me that fast, hyung?” He laughed humorlessly. “It won’t be too long, now.”

“Hyunjin, you know that’s not what I meant.” This was exactly what Taehyung had feared; he’d avoided Hyunjin all week, inventing chores that he didn’t have to do and slipping into Yuqi and Miyeon’s room more often so he didn’t have to face Hyunjin. “Oh, bud; please don’t cry.”

Hyunjin couldn’t’ve been adopted at a better time. Taehyung was almost eighteen and out of the system; he’d have to leave Hyunjin anyway. Hyunjin finding a home was a miracle. At nine, Hyunjin was a bit older than most hopeful parents wanted their child to be, but here, the childlike countenance that had given him so much trouble from bullies had worked in his favor.

Of course Taehyung hated the fact that he’d most likely never see Hyunjin again, the boy he’d come to think of as a younger brother. _Of course_ he wished things were different, that they could’ve been in the same family. But there was nothing at all he could do, except to let Hyunjin sob into his ratty t-shirt, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill out of his own eyes.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” Hyunjin sniffled. “What if I never see you again?”

Taehyung bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep. “Maybe your new mom will let me come and see you.”

Hyunjin scoffed. “You already sound like a grown-up, hyung. Grown-ups always say ‘maybe’ when they mean ‘never’.”

Taehyung held on tighter, wishing he didn’t have to let go.

. . .

When Taehyung was called into the office, he didn’t know what to expect. The last time it had been when he’d been caught in Miyeon’s bed. The time before, it had been after he’d almost knocked a kid out for making fun of Hyunjin. He couldn’t think of a single offence he’d committed in the time between that Mr. Bang, or any of the other people who ran the orphanage, could know of.

Seeing Hyunjin and his new parent in there with him only added to his confusion.

Hyunjin’s new mother wasn’t someone Taehyung would peg for having an affinity for children- at least, not in a way that wouldn’t be criminal. Her hands would never stay still- they were always fiddling with her purse, with the hem of the same yellow dress. She’d been wearing it every time Taehyung had seen her, like a cartoon character. She gave Taehyung a toothy smile when he entered, and Taehyung fought the urge to recoil.

Mr. Bang cleared his throat, not bothering to hide his disapproval of Taehyung’s existence when their eyes met. Taehyung didn’t bother to hide his, either. “To what do I owe this pleasure, _sir_?” Taehyung called Mr. Bang ‘Sihyuk’ when he was feeling generous, a variety of names ranging from ‘you fucking cunt’ to ‘cocksucking shit-brained son of a whore’ on other days.

Taehyung’s eyes drifted to Hyunjin, who looked more excited than he had in days. Maybe Taehyung shouldn’t judge; maybe he really liked his new mother. Maybe she just had one of those unfortunate faces that made you look really evil.

“Mrs. Shin has something she’d like to tell you.” Mr. Bang said this as if the words were raking his throat coming out.

“Actually, it’s _Dr._ Shin.” Her smile was anything but genuine. “Taehyung, right? Hyunjinnie’s told me a _lot_ about you.”

Mr. Bang rolled his eyes. “All good things, I hope.”

Dr. Shin’s smile was icy. “Oh, yes, of course. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for what Hyunjin told me about _you_.” Taehyung almost laughed at Mr. Bang’s shellshocked expression, but the laughter died in his throat when Dr. Shin turned her gaze on him. “Taehyung, how would you like to be Hyunjin’s brother, officially?”

**_TWO YEARS AGO_ **

“Hyung.” Hyunjin’s voice came out too loud, and he winced. “Sorry. I just realized that it’s the first of December today.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung glanced at the rows upon rows of tally marks that dominated one wall. “Well, you’re telling me. I don’t even want to begin counting that.”

Hyunjin extended his leg long enough to kick Taehyung’s shin. If he stretched it out all the way, he could’ve touched the other wall with the tips of his toes. He’d hit a sudden growth spurt a couple of years ago, and was now almost as tall as Taehyung himself. Maybe if they’d had proper meals and exercise and had not spent seven years cooped up in what was practically a prison, he’d be even taller. “That’s not the point.”

Taehyung had a hunch about what Hyunjin was getting at. He’d hoped his brother would’ve forgotten about it, at least this year. Who was he kidding? “Yeah? Then what is?”

Hyunjin kicked him again, harder this time. Taehyung winced- seriously, what had they been injecting Hyunjin with? “It’s almost your birthday, hyung!”

Taehyung sighed. “We don’t know for sure if it’s my birthday.”

“It’s two weeks before you were left at the orphanage, so it’s your birthday,” Hyunjin insisted stubbornly. “And you’re gonna be twenty-five, hyung! It’s an important year!”

“What’s so important about hitting twenty-five?” Taehyung let his head hit the wall behind him. his legs were cramped from keeping them folded for too long. “You can drink at eighteen. And drive. And get married, I suppose. None of which I ever did at those ages.”

Hyunjin leaned over and said, in a whisper, “You can. After tonight.”

Taehyung’s head jerked instinctively to the figure crumpled on the floor beside them. Joohyun appeared to be asleep, her head tucked into her arms, tangled hair splayed around her like the gnarled roots of a tree. Her back rose and fell slowly- Taehyung couldn’t tell if it was because she was asleep, or owing to whatever happened when she’d gotten those fresh sutures on the side of her neck. “You shouldn’t be so loud. Remember what Jimin said.”

Hyunjin inhaled sharply and nodded. He pulled his legs back into his chest, drawing tiny flowers on the wall with the sharp-edged piece of metal he used to scratch tally marks.

Taehyung couldn’t tell how much time had passed when the door slammed open, and Jimin was flung inside. Just as quick, it was bolted behind him.

Jimin groaned, having landed rather heavily on his arm. His lip was cut and bleeding. “’Sup, fellas. And lady.” He nodded at Joohyun, who only gave his wound a panicked look before shuffling into the corner.

Over the years, Taehyung had come to think of Hyunjin as more of a brother than a peer. Sure, Hyunjin was still at the top of the list of People Taehyung Cared About, but there was almost a decade between them, and some things Hyunjin was too young to understand.

Jimin came into their lives seven years ago, when they were thrust into his. He’d been a drug-addicted teenager in Busan when Dr. Shin had found him. He’d agreed to something he couldn’t understand, and had ended up her lab rat- just like Taehyung and Hyunjin and Joohyun and every other person Dr. Shin had duped into coming with her.

A lot of them were homeless. Hyunjin was the youngest, though there were others who couldn’t’ve been that much older. All of them walked into this without knowing what they were signing up for.

Taehyung had certainly been terrified out of his mind all those years ago when Dr. Shin had led them to a squat concrete facility in the middle of nowhere instead of a house. He’d been tackled to the ground and handcuffed the minute he stepped out of her car. He’d heard Hyunjin scream, had heard the slap almost echo in his ears, but he was powerless to do anything to protect him.

They’d been unceremoniously thrown into a dingy cell with two other inhabitants. One of them had been taken out a couple of years back and never seen again. The other had been Jimin.

For seven years, they’d spent almost every waking moment in these four walls; taken out only so Dr. Shin and her goons could experiment on them. All of them had been lucky enough that whatever had been done to them hadn’t been lethal, or had any unfavorable side effects… for now. Not everyone was so lucky.

Joohyun used to be in the cell across theirs, and Jimin had given them a run-down about her backstory a few days after they came in. “There were four other women in there with her, but they all of them were taken away, one by one. That ruined her.”

“What happens when you’re taken away?” Hyunjin had asked.

Jimin’s reply was cryptic, but Taehyung thought the answer was fairly obvious. “I don’t know enough to tell you that.”

It had been Jimin’s plan, to escape. Taehyung hardly dared believe it might work. They’d spent the greater part of the last year brainstorming it; when they’d leave, how they’d manage to evade the guards, from where they’d escape the perimeter.

“The grounds are mined,” Jimin said. “One wrong step and we’ll be blown to smithereens. Remember Chul?”

Chul had lived a few cells down; a small, straggly-haired boy who tried to steal Taehyung’s breakfast once. Taehyung had knocked out two of his teeth. He’d never bothered any of them again. “Yeah?”

“He didn’t leave much to remember him by.”

Taehyung had heard the explosion hours ago, but hadn’t thought much of it- something loud was always going on in the building, after all. The thought of what had happened to Chul made him sick to his stomach- sure, he hadn’t been a friend to any of them, but that didn’t warrant a fate as horrendous as his.

“From where will we leave, then?” Hyunjin asked.

“The same way we came in,” Jimin decided. “Through the front.”

It had taken several more months to analyze the guards’ patrols; who’d be watching where, which exits were the least likely to set off an alarm with enough time for them to get recaptured- and all of this had to be done without alerting Joohyun, or anybody else, what they were up to.

All of which had led up to this. Hyunjin, ever the optimist, was thrumming with excitement. Jimin showed it less, but Taehyung could tell he wasn’t expecting the worst (which was hard to define, really; was death so much a worse fate than being cut apart every other day and sewn back together?). Taehyung kept his misgivings to himself; it wouldn’t do to put a damper on everybody else’s good moods.

They’d be leaving at dinnertime. Jimin would lead the way, obviously; he knew the place better than either of them, and that made him their unofficial leader.

And everything went according to plan- until it didn’t.

Taehyung knew he shouldn’t’ve let his guard down. He shouldn’t’ve gotten so cocky after managing to get outside without alerting anyone, without setting off any alarms.

Because he heard a muffled scream, and when he whipped around, Joohyun had a hand pressing down on Hyunjin’s windpipe.

“Hyunjin, no!” Taehyung gasped, lunging forward.

Something glinted in the moonlight, and Taehyung recoiled when Joohyun held up the piece of metal Hyunjin used to keep track of the days they’d spent in the facility. She pressed it to Hyunjin’s throat. “Take one step closer, and I’ll kill him.”

“Joohyun, let him go.” Jimin took a step towards her, and she dug the metal into the soft skin of Hyunjin’s long neck. In the dim lighting, Hyunjin’s blood looked almost black. “Why are you doing this?”

Joohyun shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” Her voice had a harsh undertone to it, a little snakelike. “You think you’re the first to try and get out?” She shook her head again. “You’re not supposed to leave. This is where you belong.”

“Joohyun, let him go, please,” Taehyung begged. Tears were streaming down Hyunjin’s face, and Taehyung hated how powerless he was. “Let him go. Take me instead.”

“You think I’ll fall for that?” She tightened her grip on Hyunjin. “Taeyeon tried to leave! Iseul did! And guess who they punished for that?” She laughed wildly. “ _Me_! I didn’t know anything about it, and she made me watch them die!”

“It’s going to work this time, Joohyun,” Jimin tried. “Just let the kid go, please. Don’t hurt him.”

Several things happened at once. Taehyung took a step forward, trying to get Hyunjin. Joohyun took a step back. There was a resounding _click_ , and the ground gave way beneath her. And Hyunjin.

Fire. Screams. Then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a bitch and a half to get through, hope I did it justice, oof
> 
> dw, Jeongguk will be back at his bullshit in the next chapter- I just needed to get this one out of the way ^-^ I hope it wasn’t too bad
> 
> comment, leave kudos, stalk me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/gucciggu?lang=en), do whatever
> 
> a little trivia for those of you who want to know more:  
> • The facility Taehyung, Hyunjin and Jimin are in is loosely based off the one in the _[District 9](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6unJQownW4)_ MV.  
> • Hyunjin wasn’t supposed to be Tae’s brother, at first. I knew it was going to be a SKZ member- Felix was my first choice, because Deep Voice Gang unite, but it didn’t feel right. Neither did Seungmin, who is the only Kim of the group. Stumbling across [Taehyung and Hyunjin edits](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c4/39/55/c43955099e93d7055fb2c971c24820bf.jpg) (… that’s a bit yikes but whatever floats your boat ig) was a godsend.


	8. 0 0 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the theme song for this fic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqprwUDOj_4), change my mind

“Mornin’, Tae.” Jimin beamed at Taehyung over the rim of his mug. Taehyung knew better than to trust that smile, and resisted the urge to walk back to his room. “I was just having a nice chat with little Jeonggukkie here.”

Jeongguk, who was in the midst of trying to pull down the hem of his t-shirt below his boxers, wheeled around to face Taehyung. _Help,_ he mouthed.

Taehyung huffed out a laugh. “Stop interrogating him, Min.”

Jimin gasped. “Me? Why, I never!” He pressed a palm to his chest. “I was just getting to know the kid!”

Jeongguk’s head snapped back to Jimin. “I’m not a kid.”

Jimin acknowledged this with a noncommittal hum. “Whatever you say, big boy.”

A tense silence followed, broken all of a sudden by a 2NE1 song blaring through the apartment. Jeongguk reached for his phone and slid his thumb across the screen. “Hyung?”

 _Jeongguk’s brother?_ Taehyung wondered, a pang going through his chest at the memory of his own.

“I’m…” Jeongguk pulled at a thread dangling from his t-shirt. “I’m at Chae’s.”

Taehyung’s smile slipped from his face. Jimin kept trying to catch his eyes, but Taehyung kept his eyes resolutely on Jeongguk- who was, in turn, avoiding Taehyung’s gaze.

“… Yeah, I’ll come.” Jeongguk finally succeeded in pulling the thread out. The hem of his shirt bunched up, and he smoothed it out. “Bye, Hyung.”

He got to his feet; his eyes fixed on the bare concrete. “I have to go.”

“You should,” Taehyung replied. His voice came out icier than he’d expected, and Jeongguk flinched.

He met Taehyung’s stare only when he was at the door. “I…”

Taehyung kept his face neutral. “You should probably text Chae. Let her know she has to cover for you. She might think I did away with you, otherwise.”

Jeongguk bowed his head. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t tell Hyung- I didn’t-” He sighed. “I’ll just. Let myself out.”

The door clicked shut behind him. The silence was deafening.

Jimin cleared his throat. “Sweet kid.”

“He’s not a kid,” Taehyung said immediately. “He’s…”

“Cute.” Jimin thumped his mug down on the counter behind him. “Smart. And rich; his brother’s a doctor. What’s he doing on this side of town?”

Taehyung half-shrugged, keeping his eyes on a small bug crawling near his foot. Jimin’s eyes were burning holes into the side of his head.

“You deserve better, Tae.” Gentle, soft. Pitying. “You know that, right?”

Taehyung forced himself to smile. “We’re nothing, Min. We’re just screwing around.” If he looked Jimin in the eye, he’d break down.

“Taehyung, love.” He closed the distance between them and held out his arms. A scar ran along the length of one- new, by the looks of it; one Taehyung hadn’t seen before. “C’mon.”

“Where’d you get that?” Taehyung asked.

Jimin glanced down at his arm, as if he had forgotten the scar was even there. “It doesn’t matter.”

Taehyung seized the opportunity for a change in subject. “No, I think it does.” He peered down at the scar. “Was it Yoongi?”

“Taehyung, what the fuck?” Jimin pushed away from him suddenly. “Where is this coming from?”

“It was just a question! Is that why you haven’t been coming home? Is he hurting you? I know what he’s capable of; I’ve seen him fight-”

“Don’t you dare speak of him like that,” Jimin snapped. “You know fuck-all about him.”

“I’m just saying.” Taehyung shrugged. “Why are you getting so fucking defensive if there’s nothing to hide? Is the sex that good, Min?”

“Not everyone gets stupid when they get their dick wet.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Go fuck yourself, Jimin.”

He stormed off to his room and flopped down onto his bed. The sheets smelled of Jeongguk, and Taehyung tore them off, balling them up and throwing them as far as he could.

From the kitchen, he heard Jimin swear, and then the sound of a slamming door echoed around the apartment.

. . .

“Well, you done fucked up.”

Jeongguk shot Chaeyoung the most deadpan look he could muster. “Yeah, no shit.”

Chaeyoung remained unimpressed. “Seriously, Guk; that was a total dick move. Why didn’t you tell your brother about Taehyung? _Are_ you ashamed of him?”

“No, of course not!” Jeongguk insisted. “It’s just- Hyung doesn’t know I’ve been going to Gangbuk, and I never had the guts to tell him.” The excuse sounded flimsier when he said it aloud.

Chaeyoung sighed. “Don’t look now, but Mingyu just walked in.”

So of course Jeongguk looked.

Mingyu was as effortlessly handsome as ever- his football jersey stretched across his broad chest; dark hair artfully tussled. As if he could feel Jeongguk’s eyes on him, he turned around and threw Jeongguk a boyish grin. Once upon a time, it would’ve made Jeongguk’s heart beat out of his chest. Now, it didn’t even flutter.

Jeongguk spun around in his seat. “I done fucked up.”

Chaeyoung reached over her desk and ruffled his hair. “You know what you have to do, right?”

“Wallow in self-hatred and misery for the rest of my mortal life and pray that I may feel the sweet caress of the Grim Reaper sooner than later?” Jeongguk asked brightly.

Chaeyoung yanked his hair and he yelped. “ _Jeon Jeongguk_.”

“Alright, alright!” Jeongguk pried Chaeyoung’s fingers from his hair. “I’ll tell my brother about Taehyung.”

“And?”

“I’ll apologize to Taehyung.”

“And?”

Jeongguk blinked. “And what?”

Chaeyoung’s lips twitched. “Say you’re an idiot.”

“… Really?”

She nodded.

“Fine.” Jeongguk took a deep breath and muttered, “I’m an idiot.”

Chaeyoung cupped her hand around her hear. “I’m sorry; I couldn’t quite catch that.”

Jeongguk threw his head back, sighing. “ _I’m an idiot_ ,” he said, loudly.

He knew he was screwed when he opened his eyes to see Professor Song’s decidedly unamused face peering down at him. “You’ve certainly given us enough evidence to back up that claim, Mr. Jeon. It’s hardly a eureka moment.”

Face aflame, Jeongguk turned the right way round in his seat. “Sorry, Professor.”

. . .

Jeongguk resigned himself to his fate at the sight of Namjoon’s Rolls-Royce parked in front of the campus again. He barely even flinched when Hobi practically smashed the horn in.

“Hey, Hobi Hyung.” Jeongguk flung his rucksack into the backseat before sliding in himself. “Mr. Kim wants to see me?”

Hobi cleared his throat. Jeongguk glanced at the older man’s reflection in the rear-view mirror, surprised to see it uncharacteristically somber. “Yeah.”

Jeongguk frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“He’ll tell you when we get there,” Hobi said, and fell silent.

Jeongguk spared a glance at the scenery whipping past the window. “Hyung, this isn’t the way to Avengers HQ.”

“It is not.”

“Where are we going?” Gangnam City’s commercial area was gradually giving way to more residential areas. Jeongguk gaped at the sprawling mansions they were passing _. The capitalist manifesto_.

He didn’t have to wonder for too long. Hobi pulled up to a massive iron gate emblazoned with a singular word.

_KIM_

The gates slid open a few seconds later, and Hobi pulled into the driveway of a mansion bigger than any of the ones they’d passed. The Jeons had never wanted for money or worldly possessions, but Jeongguk could never in his wildest dreams imagine that wealth of such grand proportions could exist.

“C’mon, kid,” Hobi said. Jeongguk didn’t bother correcting him as he trailed behind the elder, up the marble steps to the large double doors.

Hobi gestured towards a retinal scanner, and Jeongguk tried not to blink when the narrow beam of light shot out and into his eye. His eyes watered.

The doors swung open. Jeongguk wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and trailed inside after Hobi.

They entered a room that was easily the size of a ballroom, if not bigger. A glistening crystal chandelier hung over the long mahogany desk in the center of the room, and seated were faces Jeongguk had seen countless times before. The Earth’s sworn defenders.

The Avengers.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, and a ripple of laughter ran through the room. Jeongguk flushed.

Namjoon, seated at the head of the table, cleared his throat. “Thanks, Hobi.” He turned back to the Avengers (Jeongguk was trying not to wet himself from excitement). “Thanks for meeting with me, the rest of you. We’ll meet again later.”

Jeongguk pressed himself against the wall. Hobi gestured at him that his mouth was hanging open, and Jeongguk closed it in a hurry, his face aflame.

“He’s so cute,” Ahn Hyejin, alias the Black Widow, said to Matthew Kim, alias the Hulk. Jeongguk thought he might faint.

He peeled himself off the wall once the door shut behind the last of them. “Wow,” he breathed.

Namjoon chuckled. “Take your time, Jeongguk.”

“ _Wow_.” Jeongguk shook his head. “They’re so cool.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Jeongguk took a deep breath. “What were they all doing here? Never mind that; what am _I_ doing here?”

Namjoon’s face grew somber. “I’ll cut right to the chase, then. Jeongguk, I’m going to need you to lay low for a little while. No more Spider-Man stunts.”

Jeongguk did a double take. “Sorry, what?” He stared at Namjoon. “Did I do something?”

Namjoon sighed. “No, it’s not you, it’s Dr. Shin. She’s back.”

The name sent a chill down Jeongguk’s spine. Taehyung’s voice had shaken whenever he said it the other night. Jeongguk had wanted to know more, but he hadn’t wanted to interrupt Taehyung while he was talking about his dead brother. Jeongguk had meant to ask more the next day, but…

 _I went and fucked that up_.

Namjoon studied his face. “She wants you, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk’s jaw dropped for the second time in a span of a few minutes. “ _Me_?”

Namjoon nodded slowly. “She knows you’re working for me. That break-in, all those months ago… it was a threat. To show me what she’s capable of.”

“What the hell would she need _me_ for?”

Namjoon fell silent for several beats. “I don’t know, Jeongguk. But it can’t be anything good.”

Jeongguk stared at him. “Why do you want me to lay low? If she comes for me, I’m pretty sure I can take her on-”

“You don’t know who you’re talking about, Jeongguk.” Namjoon’s calm composure was cracking, and a hint of frustration seeped through. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

“I would if you’d let me-”

“Dammit, Jeongguk; you’re just a kid,” Namjoon snapped. “This isn’t something you know how to take care of.”

Jeongguk reeled back like he’d been shot. _Just a kid, huh?_ There was no way in hell he’d take orders from-

Namjoon wasn’t done with him. “Is your suit in your backpack?”

Jeongguk stared at him. “Mr. Kim, no-”

“Hobi.” Namjoon gestured at the man in question, who’d been watching it all unfold from the doorway. “Take it.”

Jeongguk turned his eyes to the older man, pleading for him to refuse. Hobi shook his head sadly. “Sorry, kid. Orders are orders.”

Jeongguk wheeled around to glare at Namjoon. “Why are you doing this?”

“It’s for your own good.” Namjoon’s tone left no room for questions. Jeongguk dropped his eyes to his reflection on the polished marble floor. “Hobi will drop you off at home.”

. . .

Jeongguk stabbed at his noodles like it had personally offended him. Namjoon’s words from earlier that afternoon were echoing in his mind like a broken record.

 _You’re just a kid. You have no idea what you’re dealing with._ That son of a-

“Gukkie?” Seokjin placed his hand atop Jeongguk’s, stopping him from further mutilating his dinner. “You’re upset.”

A snarky retort popped into his mind, but Jeongguk bit his tongue. None of this was his brother’s fault; it was just Namjoon belittling him- treating him like a child, as if he couldn’t understand what the grown-ups were talking about-

“Sorry, Hyung.” Jeongguk sighed, relaxing his grip on his chopsticks. Seokjin rubbed his knuckles with his thumb, concern etched on his face. “Just… there’s a lot on my mind, lately.”

Seokjin pursed his lips. “Joon told me what happened today.”

Jeongguk scoffed. “Yeah? Well, _you_ can tell _him_ that he’s a fucking-”

“Finish that thought; I _dare_ you.” Jeongguk sealed his lips. Then, softer, Seokjin said, “I know you’re mad at him, Jeongguk, but you have to understand that he’s doing it for your protection. He wants you to stay safe almost as much as I do.”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Sure. Safe.”

Seokjin sighed. “Look. I trust Namjoon, and I know he’s doing everything he can to deal with this situation. This Dr. Shin character- she’s a psychopath.”

Jeongguk stared at his brother. “How do _you_ know about her?”

“Joon called me in to go through several of the logs she kept while she worked at Kim Industries-”

“How romantic.”

The corner of Seokjin’s lips quirked up and he reached over the table to shove Jeongguk. “Don’t be a smartass. As I was saying before I was oh so rudely interrupted, I went through her work. There’s nothing from recent years- she’s scrapped anything that could properly incriminate her- but there were several records from way back that I could piece together, and with a decent amount of guesswork, you could imagine what she’s up to.” Seokjin took a deep breath. “How much do you know about her?”

 _That she practically kidnapped Taehyung and his brother and God knows how many other people to use as lab rats for her sick experiments_. “Mr. Kim showed me the video. The horse thing…”

“And you remember how she said that the animal was too large, that’s why it didn’t work out?”

Jeongguk nodded.

“Whatever she used then, for the animal- it wouldn’t’ve boded well for an adult human, even.” Seokjin looked away. “For a child, on the other hand…”

Jeongguk’s blood ran cold. “You don’t mean…?”

“She used children. Or at least, she had plans to.” Jeongguk felt sick to his stomach. “I don’t think she had the means to do so while she worked for Kim Industries, but there’s a definite possibility she might’ve succeeded in acquiring test subjects in later years.” Seokjin squeezed his hand. “I know it sounds horrible, Jeonggukkie- I’m just trying to warn you how insane of a person she is. There’s a chance she might not have been able to; I doubt any parents would give up their children as lab rats all that easy-”

“Orphans,” Jeongguk blurted. “She- she might’ve used orphans.”

Seokjin’s face paled. “Yeah. Yeah, she might have.”

 _She did_.

Jeongguk gulped, itching for a change in subject. _It’s now or never_. “Hyung… I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Seokjin stared back at him expectantly.

Jeongguk inhaled. “I’m seeing someone. Well, I was. I don’t know where we stand now. It’s complicated.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “And he lives in Gangbuk.”

There was a painfully long silence. Then, Seokjin said softly, “I know.”

Jeongguk’s eyes flew open. “What? How?”

Seokjin clicked his chopsticks together. “Oh, sweet Jeonggukkie. My poor, dumb bunny. Idiot child of our late parents’ loins-”

“I think we get the gist, Hyung,” Jeongguk interrupted, disgruntled.

Seokjin chuckled. “Your Spidey-Suit. The Baby Monitor Protocol.”

“The _what_?”

“Joonie didn’t tell you? I thought you knew.” Seokjin furrowed his brows. “The new protective protocols that were installed-”

“He- you- were _watching_ me?”

“Well, not exactly. And Lord knows how thankful I am for that, now armed with the knowledge that you’ve been crossing the river for booty calls.” Seokjin shuddered. “But we always knew where you were. Just in case you got yourself into a sticky situation.”

Jeongguk should’ve felt relief that he didn’t have to deal with his brother’s speech of betrayal, that Seokjin was taking all of this in stride. Instead, all he felt was anger. “So you didn’t trust me, is that it? Thought I’d fuck up?”

Seokjin’s eyes blew wide. “Jeonggukkie, no, that’s not at all-”

“Because I’m just a kid, right?” Jeongguk laughed, shaking his head. “I’m just a dumb fucking kid who can’t get anything right, who’s gonna screw up at every fucking turn-”

“Jeongguk, no- that’s not what I-”

“Save it, Hyung.”

Jeongguk stormed off to his room and flopped down onto his bed. His eyes were burning, and the minute he buried his face in his sheets, he started to cry.

 _How fucking mature, Jeon. No wonder everyone thinks you’re a kid_.

He lay face-down and sobbing until the snot clogged up his nose and he couldn’t breathe, and flopped over onto his back. The glow-in-the-dark stars taped to his ceiling blinked merrily back at him.

He pulled open the topmost drawer of his bedside cabinet, in search for something to blow his nose on. Siezing the first thing he got his hands on, he pulled it out.

The glow-in-the-dark stars didn’t offer much light- but Jeongguk didn’t have to see it properly to recognize the old red hoodie, or the spider he’d painted on the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter count’s gone up… again. I had to split this chapter into 2 because it got too long y i k e s
> 
> sorry for the long wait; I kept writing and rewriting and scrapping everything and starting from the top all these weeks (－‸ლ) but I think I like how it turned out lmao

**Author's Note:**

> y’all I dunno if there’s acc a WikiHow page on Shibari,,,


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